


The Fighting Game

by Lunas_Secret_Lover



Series: The R'lyeh Chronicles [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bunny happened on accident, Episode: s19e06 Tweek x Craig, Everyone Is Gay, HOORAY, M/M, Woops, creek - Freeform, south park - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:57:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 60,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunas_Secret_Lover/pseuds/Lunas_Secret_Lover
Summary: Craig Tucker has always found Tweek Tweak fascinating, though they've never been close.  When other freshmen at their school egg them into fighting one another, both boys enjoy it a little too much.  A dance between denial and desire brings the two closer together as they endure high school, make new alliances, and fight against the Evil Cult of Cthulhu.





	1. Chapter 1

Craig stared at Tweek from across the shop classroom, pit of anxiety heavy in his usually calm stomach.  Of all the kids, of anyone, why were Stan and his ass-wipe friends setting him against Tweek?  Not that Tweek was special or anything.  Not that it mattered.  He hardly knew the kid.  Tweek twitched, running a hand through his messy blond hair, and Craig turned away, confused.  They barely talked, really.  Just because he stared at Tweek sometimes, only when class got unbearably boring, curious at how often he twitched, at all the squeaky little noises he made, didn’t mean anything   He wasn’t a pussy, afterall, and he’d fight whoever he had to to prove it. Whether or not twitchy little Tweek Tweak, who sat in the front row, and always turned his homework in on time, actually talked shit about Craig behind his back or not.  Which knowing Cartman, he hadn’t.

 

“Psst- hey Craig.  Tweek said your guinea pig is a butt-sniffing addict.  They said he sniffs so many butts he turned brown,” Cartman said with a suppressed snicker.

 

“Hehe yeah,” Butters said.  Craig rolled his eyes, flipping them both off under the table.  But if he didn’t do anything, if he stayed quiet, he was a pansy.  That’s what his dad had told him. 

 

“He did, did he?” Craig asked, trying to emote.  “Well then that mother fucker must be taught a lesson, alright.”  The other boys giggled, hiding their mouths behind their hands while the teacher yelled at them to stop messing around.  

 

“Psst- Craig,” Cartman whispered.  “Fight after class.  Out by the football field.  Tweek says he’s gunna totally kick your ass.”

 

Craig groaned inwardly, counting the ticks down on the clock until this would all be over. Until he could beat up Tweek and move on with his life.  Before he was ready for it, the bell rang and he was following the rest of them outside, trying not to think of the little “gahs” Tweek made when he was frustrated.     _ Don’t think about him and it’ll be fine.  Just pretend it’s Mr. Garrison and kick his ass.   _ As he walked through the doors, he saw Tweek hanging back by the school, looking terrified.  Against his better judgement, he walked over to talk to him.

 

“Hey Tweek.”

 

“GAH! H-h-hey, Craig.”

 

“So I guess we have to fight.”

 

“Do-do we really have to? I mean, it’s just-AH! It’s Cartman and Stan.  Those guys are the worst.  I don’t have anything against you.”

 

“Oh,” Craig said.  He figured it’d been those assholes.  “Yeah.”

 

“So-so what do we do?”

 

“I don’t know.  Maybe if we go home they’ll forget about it.”  Tweek’s head snapped back and forth rapidly, and Craig felt a tweak of sympathy again.  Not that he thought the plan would work.

 

“Okay.”

 

“AH! Really?  Is it OK?”

 

“Yeah, dude, it’ll be fine,” he said.  On impulse he lay a hand on Tweek’s arm.  Tweek shuddered, then jumped half a foot in the air.  He screamed “Gah!” and ran off.  Craig watched him go, nonplussed.  

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Of course they hadn’t been able to get out of it.  Cartman had seen to that.  The next afternoon, he’d been forced to learn how to fight an ass as large and mighty as the fatass’, then dragged to the football fields to face Tweek Tweak, the nerdy little guy in a few of his classes that he’d never seen smile.  Tweek caught his eye, and Craig shrugged guiltily.  He was surprised at the fiercely determined look in Tweek’s eyes.  The blonde boy was staring him down.  Craig was the first to look away.  He let Cartman tug off his shirt, the fatboy’s fingers rougher than necessary on his skin.  The breeze prickled his skin, and he felt his nipples growing uncomfortably hard.  He prayed no one would notice.  He turned back to Tweek.  The blond boy was shirtless too, and Craig felt a strange feeling running from his head to his toes, which he attributed to nervousness over the fight.  Tweek wasn’t as starving african child skinny as he looked with clothes on.  There was muscle on his slight frame, visible in his stomach and his arms.  Craig gulped.  

 

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!” The idiot Stan Marsh started the chant, but it was picked up by the others, their freshmen classmates, but also some of the older kids, drawn by the promise of violence.  Craig met Tweeks eyes again.  Then the other boy leaped at him, swinging his fists wildly.  Craig fell over in surprise, raising his arms to protect himself from the assault.  Tweek fell into him, rolling them both to the ground.  Craig felt the heaviness of him, the heat of his bare skin, and another shudder ran through him.  He hit Tweek hard in the face, to dispel the feeling.  They rolled together, fists raining blows, chests pushed against each other in a painful embrace.  Craig felt the punches, somewhere his mind acknowledged them, but his body didn’t care, it was eager to fight, to win, to come out on top.  He heard the other kids egging them on, and he pushed Tweek, falling against him again.  He felt himself growing dizzy, but he couldn’t make his hands stop.  He knew he had to beat Tweek.  The last thing he remembered was realizing, in confusion, that he was hard.  Then nothing until waking up in a pristine white hospital room, drugged out of his ass.  

 

Craig supposed he should be in pain, but he wasn’t.  He was just high.  He smiled blissfully, closing his eyes again.  He heard muffled “gah”s next to him, and his grin widened.  He couldn’t remember why, but for some reason he was very happy Tweek was there.

 

“Hey Tweek,” he said.

 

“Ah- er, hey Craig.  Sorry about back there.”

 

“Don’t worry about it.  It was-er- interesting.”  They lapsed into silence again.  Before Craig could help himself he added, “It was actually pretty fun.  Besides the hospital stuff.  You’re pretty scrappy.”

 

“Gah- it-it was! You-you’re pretty tough yourself.”

 

Craig rolled to his side, hissing as his many bruises were agitated.  He felt insane, but he said it anyway.  “You know if you wanted, we could do it again sometime.  Maybe less rough.”

 

Tweek almost smiled.  “AH! Sure.”

 

Stan and his queermos showed up to goad them into fighting again, and Craig rolled onto Tweek again, being careful to be gentler this time as they wrestled over the floor of the hospital.  He got a sick kind of satisfaction when he won, sitting on top of Tweek’s chest.  Tweek twitched under him, and Craig was embarrassed to feel he was hard again, pressing against Tweek’s stomach.  He got off him, hoping the other boy hadn’t noticed.  The other boys had left again, leaving them alone in their room.

 

“So, uh, do you wanna be friends?” he asked.  Tweek’s mouth twitched once, twice, three times, into an almost smile.

 

“Yeah!” he squeaked.  “Sure, dude! Gah!”

 

Craig grinned.  His town was weird, and he was never quite sure what the idiots he went to school with would do next, but, after all the messiness, things seemed to work out in his favor this time.  He flipped Tweek off, and the nervous boy did the mouth twitch Craig was beginning to realize was a smile.  “Okay.  I’m going to Jimmy’s house with Clyde and Token.  Do you want to come?”

 

“GAH! CCLYDE AND TOKEN?  THAT’s WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE.”

 

“It’ll be fine.  I promise.  Okay?”

 

“Ah- okay.  I guess.”


	2. Chapter 2

From that day onward, Tweek became part of Craig’s gang. Token and Clyde didn’t question it, not really. After all, Tweek had proven he was pretty bad ass, and he didn’t seem to have many friends. Craig remembered when he saw Tweek hanging out with Stan and his groupies for a few months, and the weird sense of disappointment he’d felt, the relief when Tweek was back to eating lunch with the kids he never seemed to talk to. Tweek needed friends, and Craig, Token, Clyde and Jimmy took to the strange nervous boy surprisingly well. He was as fascinating as Craig had always thought he’d be, despite his constant anxiety and weird conspiracy theories about gnomes stealing his underpants. Tweek was sweet, really. He was as good with Stripe as Craig was. He picked up baby birds that fell from their nests and placed them back. And he was funny. 

Plus there was the other thing. The thing that was just with him and Tweek. They didn’t fight like they did the first time, because it wasn’t really about pain. It was about who was stronger, who looked away first. Who ended up on top. The second time it happened he hadn’t been expecting it. They’d gone swimming, with some of the other guys, and Tweek came back to run Stripe through the new obstacle course.

They’d been shirtless. Beads of water dripped from the tips of Tweek’s normally wild blond hair, tamed by the water, onto his chest, and his thin stomach. Tweek looked nervous, even more than usual, and when he twitched, Craig was showered with mist. 

“Do you, AH! Craig do you want to practice fighting? We may need to know how to really do it one day. You know, if the gnomes attack.” Craig tried to keep the grin off his face, but failed. Tweek shivered.

“Okay. But no face shots this time.”

“And nothing too rough. My-GAH my dad was mad when I was so bruised last time.” Craig agreed, feeling a droplet of water slip from his nose to the floor. He stood, looking Tweek up and down. He had that look in his eyes again. Something fierce and determined. And-eager? Then Tweek jumped at him again. Craig grunted as Tweek wrapped his legs around him, pushing at his chest. Tweek was so much smaller than him. So much more vulnerable. But he was feisty, and too quickly Craig found himself pulled to the ground. He grappled with Tweek, trying to regain the upper hand, but Tweek pulled him into a chokehold, pushing his face towards the ground. 

He felt Tweek up against his back pushing into him. There was something pressed up to him. Something- kind of hard? But it wasn’t Tweek, obviously. That would be weird. He decided to ignore it, and managed to flip Tweek back around, on his back. He pushed him into the floor, causing Tweek to let out a startled yelp.

“Are you ok?” Craig asked, pulling away. Maybe he’d been too rough. Tweek’s cheeks were red, and in startled astonishment he realized Tweek was blushing. He looked almost embarrassed.

“Yeah, I-AH! I’m ok. Sorry. I just. It was fun. I liked it.” Unconsciously, Craig’s eyes travelled to Tweek’s crotch. Something was pressed up against his swim trunks, something hard and long. He looked away. They were teenaged boys. Craig himself found himself getting hard whenever ANYONE touched him. It didn’t mean anything.

“I did too. Are you ok to keep going?”

“Yeah,” Tweek said, eyes wide. Craig grabbed at his cold shoulders, managing to regain control over the smaller boy. He was surprised when Tweek somehow flipped him again, and he found himself face down on the floor, with Tweek’s hard on pushing against him. The feel of it sent a shiver down his body. His hips snapped towards Tweek instinctively, and he cursed his teenage boy responsive body. Tweek let out one of his little gasping sounds, and it seemed to Craig like he was getting some sort of satisfaction rubbing himself up against his friend. He shivered again, and he felt his own dick growing, pushing into the soft carpet.

His struggle was just pretense now. He was loving the feeling of it too much. Tweek was rutting up against him, barely trying to hide it now. Craig just shut his brain off. This was just a new form of fighting. It meant nothing. He just enjoyed the feeling of Tweek gasping against him, letting out little moans as he humped Craig. Craig let his own cock rub against the carpet with every thrust of Tweek’s. He was close to something. He wasn’t sure what, but it felt so good, he was pushing up against Tweek, letting his cock rub harder through his swim trunks onto the carpeted ground. The something was building up faster now, spreading from where Tweek lay against him. Then Tweek let out a final gasping moan and Craig felt something wet against his back. Tweek rolled off of him, and Craig felt his cock, achingly hard up against the waistband of his trunks. Tweek looked at him laying on the ground for a moment, then gave him a smile. 

He helped Craig up, acting as though nothing had happened. Craig probably imagined the whole thing. He’d been the only one getting gratification from the strange encounter. He gave Tweek a weak grin, and they spent the rest of the afternoon playing some gay video game Tweek liked. Nothing was different really. After all, nothing had really happened aside from them fighting. But that evening, Craig found his hand on his cock, not for the first time. It seemed to be the first time that mattered, though. He kept his thoughts off anything in particular, enjoying the sensation of his hand. He felt himself growing harder, and he moved his hand up and down, mimicking what Tweek had done against him. The same pressure built up in his stomach, and his breath caught in his throat as he stroked faster, and faster, approaching some waterfall he wouldn’t be able to come back from.

The wave hit him at once, pushing him over the edge to a pleasure he’d never felt before. He let out a ragged moan as his cock twitched, letting out a stream of white liquid all over his hand. His eyes rolled back in his head as he came, stroking himself once, then twice more before he was too sensitive to continue. Interesting, Craig thought, cleaning himself up. He did it twice more that night, until his penis was sensitive to the touch and he couldn’t bare to let it twitch again.

It happened occasionally when they fought after that. Tweek would end up against him, rutting on him until he gasped and Craig felt the white stuff on his back. Craig let him do it, liking the feeling of it. He’d masturbate by himself at night, and though he’d never admit it to himself, often the last thing he saw before he finished was Tweek’s moaning face. But it didn’t mean anything. They were just fighting. It was just part of how they fought. He was into chicks, and everyone knew it. Hell, some days it was all he and Clyde talked about. This Tweek thing was just different. It might have been weird for any other two people, but for them, it was purely platonic. Just two friends letting out their pent up teenage frustration in fights. 

They didn’t talk about it near the others. Or each other. The incidents happened, but they were left unmentioned, separated from the rest of their lives. Craig had his first kiss with Red, an awkward, unfeeling thing. He’d been disappointed. First kisses were supposed to have sparks, and make you feel something, but his had been… lackluster. The fighting game continued for the rest of their freshman year, into the summer. It only started to change when the leaves did, when Kenny brought back their childhood superhero game.


	3. Chapter 3

Craig first saw the kid outside his window on a Friday.  He was dressed in  purple body suit, with a pair of underwear on top.  His face was covered in some kind of black mask, and there was a green question mark on his hood, and on his chest.  Craig stared from his bed, nonplussed.  The kid was looking in his window like some kind of creep, peering in at Craig’s room from the darkness.  Craig walked to the window, and opened it.  He stared at the kid for a moment before asking, “Um, what are you doing?”

 

“Oh, err, Craig,” a fakely deep voice said.  “I’m investigating criminal activity in the area and your rooftop has the most strategic positioning.”     
  


Craig blinked, undisturbed.  “It’s because you want to see my mom’s boobs, isn’t it.”

 

The boy looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot.  “I would never compromise the integrity of my position.”

 

“You’re a vigilante.  There is no integrity in your position.”

 

“Yeah that’s what I was thinking too,” the figure said, thoughtfully stroking his chin.  “You won’t tell anyone you saw me here, will you?”

 

Craig frowned.  “I don’t care.  Just don’t look in my window anymore, Kenny, that’s not cool.”

“Noted.  Goodbye, Craig.”  The figure turned to leave, then paused.  “How did you know who I was?”

 

“Your whole face is visible.  You used nylon or something for your mask.”

 

“Right,” Kenny said.  “Bye.”

 

“Bye.” Craig shut the window and went back to bed.  He told Tweek about it the next morning while they played football with the other guys. 

 

“DUDE!”  Tweek shrieked.  “Who do you think it was? Is-is there really a lot of crime going on in South Park?”   
  


“I don’t know,” Craig lied, unsure why he was covering for Kenny.  “Probably one of Stan’s bozos.  Cartman or Kyle.  Or Stan.”

 

“Would you gaywads stop chatting like a bunch of girls and hike the ball?”  Cartman yelled from the sidelines.  Tweek shrieked and threw the ball to Craig through his legs.  Craig threw the ball towards Butters, then looked back to reassure Tweek.  “Oh-ho, and Craig throws an interception, straight into Stan’s arms.  Stan’s running! He’s at the 20, the 10, and TOUCHDOWN STAN!”

 

Craig rolled his eyes as the rest of his team grumbled.  He normally liked football, but didn’t seem to be able to focus today.  “Sorry.  Can we take a water break?”   
  


“You can’t take water breaks every five minutes just because you’re losing, Craig, that’s bullshit,” Cartman said.

 

“Yeah!  Come on, guys, let’s just finish the game.  Next team to score wins.”  Stan stood bossily, hands on his hips.  As always, he had to play the unelected leader.  Craig flipped him and the rest of the team off, then waited for the kick off.  Cartman was still announcing the game, in a deep serious voice.  

 

“And the ball is kicked by Butters.  It makes it to his ten yard line.  Which incidentally, is his best kick today.  The Douchebags really need to find a new kicker.  Clyde reaches the ball first.  He’s on the run! Annnnd he’s tackled by the Jew.  The Gaylords will start on the fifteen yard line.”

 

“You can’t just name the teams Douchebags and Gaylords, Cartman.  And don’t call me Jew!”

 

“Why not, Kahl, you are a Jew aren’t you?”

 

“Ugh, Craig, snap the god damn ball so we can go home.”

 

“OhmaHA,” Craig said.  Tweek was shaking with anticipation.  “Set HUT!”  The ball was in his hands, and this time he was absorbed into the game.  The Douchebags were rushing at him in a blitz, and he stepped into the pocket, searching for anything, any target that was mildly open.   _ Token. _  The ball was leaving his hands before his conscious mind realized he’d found someone.

 

“And to absolutely no one’s surprise, the Gaylords pass to the one black kid playing.  He’s running! He’s past the last line of defense on the fifty!  He’s on the forty! TOUCHDOWN GAYLORDS.  And with that, the Gaylords assert complete authoritah over the Douchebags.  Kahl, you may now suck their balls.”

 

“I’m not sucking ANYONE’S balls, fatass.”

 

“Maybe not yet, Kahl.  But you will.  Oh you will.”  Craig grabbed his water bottle and took a long swig, enjoying the cold running down his throat.  Tweek was drinking his iced coffee beside him, twitching all the while.  Kids peeled off in groups of two or three, off to spend their Saturdays actually doing things.

 

“Do you guys want to come to my place?”  Token asked.  “I just got a new T.V. and it’s pretty sweet.”

 

“I-I’ll cuh-cuh-cuh-come,” Jimmy managed to get out.

 

“Me too,” said Clyde. Craig looked at Tweek, who was shaking more than usual, from the excitement of the game, or fear from Tweek’s news.

 

“I can’t today,” he lied.  “My mom’s making me do chores.”

 

“Tweek?” Token asked.  Craig grinned.  Tweek was really being accepted by his other friends.

 

“I-AH! I have to-to-to WATER THE PLANTS! I wish I could.” 

 

“Suit yourself,” Token said with a shrug.  “Come on, guys.”  Craig watched them walk away.  He grabbed the rest of his stuff and started walking.

 

“Do you think he needs help?  The-GAH! The vigilante?”

 

“Why?”  Craig asked.  “Would you want to be his sidekick?”   
  


Tweek screamed, looking outraged.  “WHAT?  NO WAY, MAN!  THAT’S WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE.”

 

“Ok, ok,” Craig said.  “Well maybe you and I could do something.  Like a neighborhood watch.  If we see any real bad guys, we’ll just call the cops.  But we can be another set of eyes.”

 

Tweek’s eyes lit up.  “That sounds good, Craig.  Ok.”

 

“Do you want to come back to my place?  We could practice, err, subduing bad guys.”  Tweek nodded, panting a little as his shorter legs tried their best to keep pace with Craig’s long ones.  Craig slowed down unconsciously.  He really needed to get a car.  It sucked still having to walk everywhere.  Especially with Stan and Token lording their vehicles over everyone else.  After what seemed like ages, they managed to get to Craig’s house.  He let them in, carefully locking the door behind him.  “Mom?  Dad?”

 

The house was quiet.  He checked the garage.  No cars.  They were good.  ‘I-I can be the bad guy first.”  Tweek looked at him hopefully before continuing, “I learned a little about fighting dirty from this boxer once.”

 

“Alright,” said Craig.  His heart leaped a little at the sight of Tweek, sweat-drenched still from football, removing his shirt.  “But the bad guy has to lose, you know.”

 

“I know,” Tweek said.  He gave a small whimper, but that determined gleam was still in his eyes.  Craig was used to letting Tweek win, so he could feel the thin boy’s body against him, trembling with effort and pleasure.  “And the- AH! The winner takes his reward.”  Craig’s cock jerked upwards at that.  Nothing more needed to be said.  Craig knew exactly why he’d have to fight hard this time.  He removed his own shirt, matching Tweek’s basketball shorts only outfit.

 

“How dare you attack my city?” Craig asked, a little awkward.  “I’ll make you pay, you stupid villain.”

 

Tweek seemed more into the playacting.  Craig noticed that he didn’t stutter at all as he spoke.  “Super Craig?  You think you can defeat me?  The world needs to see what I’m capable of.  South Park needs to see.  And at last my plan is complete!  There’s only one more thing I need.”

 

“What?”  Craig asked.  

 

“The blood of a superhero!”  Tweek cried, leaping at Craig.  His arms wrapped around Craig’s neck, and he could feel Tweek’s breath hot on his skin.  Tweek’s legs made their way around his waist, and to Craig’s shock, Tweek bit him.  Not enough to break the skin, but enough to hurt.  He jumped in surprise, arms pulling Tweek off him hard, throwing him to the couch.  “I knew it!”  Tweek cried.  “I knew you were taking it easy on me.”

 

“You’re just smaller than me,” Craig defended.  His neck  _ hurt.   _ He felt a flash of anger, and straddled Tweek underneath him, hands roughly finding Tweek’s arms to pin him.  His legs fell heavy onto Tweek’s, immobilizing any appendage that could injure him, now that Tweek was fighting dirty.  He leaned down to whisper in Tweek’s ear.  “Is this what you wanted?”  

 

Tweek was shaking so hard Craig felt like he was in an earthquake.  “It looks like you won,” he said, expectant.  Craig noticed Tweek’s cock was hard, up against his through their basketball shorts.  He gave an experimental roll of the hips letting them rub together.  Tweek let out a gasping moan, and Craig grinned, cock twitching at the sound.  He rubbed himself up against Tweek again, a little harder this time, and let out a grunt.  He held down Tweek’s arms harder, not willing to let his prey get away.

 

“Then I guess it’s time to claim my victory.”  With that, Craig began humping up against the shivering blond, who made cute little moans with each thrust of Craig’s.  He felt an odd urge.  He wanted to grab Tweek’s dick, to play with it and get more sounds from his friend, but that would be crossing a line from wrestling to gay.  It was fine for them to rub up against each other, but a hand on another man’s cock was definitely gay.  He instead focused on the sensations, of the silky basketball shorts, of Tweek’s rock hard penis pressed against his own, roughly giving him a thrill of pleasure with each hip roll.  He felt himself beginning to lose control, and his thrusts grew more erratic.  Tweek let out a screaming grunt, the kind Craig recognized as the sound he made after he’d rubbed against Craig for a long time, and suddenly, he felt something wet.  This sent him over the edge, and he moaned as he came, spilling his seed onto Tweek’s pants.  He collapsed onto the blond, unable to move another inch.

 

“I think if we keep practicing,” Tweek murmured sleepily, “We’ll get really good at this whole crime fighting thing.”

 

“I think so too,” Craig said, vaguely aware of his hands tangling into Tweek’s blond hair as he struggled to keep his eyes open.  When he woke up, he’d move.  He’d claim he only napped on Tweek because he was a good pillow.  But for now, he’d enjoy the silky, wild locks pressed into his palm as he drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

“Dude.  What the fuck.” Craig said.  “The only time I hang out with Stan and his friends, who know one likes, I end up getting involved in an ancient guinea pig cult and stuck in Peru for two weeks.”

 

“I dunno,” Clyde said.  “But you shouldn’t have hung out with them in the first place, Craig.  Those guys are assholes.”   
  


Craig looked at his best friend and nodded.  They were assholes.  He knew better.  “Remind me to save my hundred dollars for a new Xbox or something next time.”

 

“Will do.  Have you seen Bebe lately?”  Clyde’s eyes clouded over with teenage lust for a moment.  “She’s getting hot, dude.  I’m pretty sure she’s up to a C cup now.”

 

“Really?” Craig asked, uninterested.

 

“Yea, I think I’m going to ask her to homecoming.  I’m kind of scared she’ll say no, though.”

 

Craig rolled his eyes.  Clyde’s ego made him need reassurance every three minutes.  “She won’t say no.  She likes you too.”

 

“Do you really think so?”

 

“Clyde,” Craig said, slowing his voice down enough to be understood.  “You are the starting quarterback for South Park High as a freshman.  You’re good looking and talented.  Girls are all over you.”

 

Clyde grinned.  “Then I think I’m gunna do it.”   
  


“Good.”

 

Clyde shifted from foot to foot in front of his locker, deciding what books he’d need.  “What about you?”

 

“What do you mean?”   
  


“Is there a girl you think is hot?”   
  


Craig thought about it.  “I don’t know.  I guess Heidi Turner is pretty cute.”   
  


“You should ask her to homecoming! We could do a double date together.”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Craig said.  There was a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach, but he couldn’t put a finger on why.  Deciding it wasn’t important, he went to class.  He took his spot near the back of the classroom, where he wouldn’t get in trouble for not paying attention.  Tweek looked back and gave him a twitchy smile.  The sinking feeling got heavier.  The back of Heidi’s head was greasy. It had clearly been a few days since she washed her hair.  Craig closed his eyes, imagining his ideal hair on a chick: blond, silky and smooth.  He could probably overlook one flaw.

 

“Ok, class, can anyone recite the preamble of the Declaration of Independence for us?”  The class grew silent, everyone glancing at one another, trying to remember if that had actually been their homework or if Garrison was cracking again.  “That’s what I thought, children.  You know, you kids should really work on your history.  I don’t know what that history teacher is telling you all.  Let’s all pull out the book.  Turn to page 28, please.  

Now let’s pick up our discussion on the Christ-like figures in Lord of the Flies.  There are a few, in not just Ralph, but in Simon and Piggy too.  Now can anyone tell me what the children sticking a stick up the boar’s vagina signifies?”   
  


Craig glanced around the class again, certain this was Mr. Garrison fucking with them, trying to catch them for not reading the book.  Had anyone read the book?  Wendy raised her hand.  “It signifies the breakdown of society and the way violence towards women happens as society breaks down.”

 

“Good job, Wendy.  Now…”  Craig stopped listening.  Raping pigs or not, the book’s first five pages had been incredibly boring, and he suspected the rest of it actually was as well.  He stared back at Heidi Turner, trying to figure out what he found attractive about her.  The bell rang before he figured it out, so he followed her out of the classroom and pulled her aside.  

 

“Hey Heidi.  Would you like to go to homecoming with me.”  Heidi blushed and smiled.  Her teeth were yellow, and the pimples on her cheeks stood out more than ever.  Craig looked at the ceiling.

 

“Of course, Craig!  Thanks for asking me.”

 

“You’re welcome,” he said.  He walked away, regretting his decision more with every step.  

 

Clyde and Token congratulated him on his conquest at lunch.  Tweek, however, was quiet, picking at his food looking morose.  Craig wondered if he’d been turned down for the dance.  Heidi turned and smiled at him a few more times, and Craig wished he could take it back.  At least he could go with his friends and their dates.  

 

“Tweek, are you going to ask someone?  You should, so you can come with us.”  Clyde said.

 

“Gah! I don’t know, man! That’s way too much pressure!”

 

“I think Red’s single.  You should go with her.”

 

“I, er,”  Tweek glanced around.  “I don’t think I’ll go.  Gah!  I don’t like dancing.”

 

“Suit yourself.  Token, c’mon.  If you still want to help me ask out Bebe.”

 

Tweek avoided Craig’s eyes, looking around the cafeteria like he was searching for someone.  Craig frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“Ah! Nothing! I just don’t like school dances.”

 

“Oh,” Craig said, unconvinced.  “Well do you want to go to my place after school?  I got the new Battlefield.  We could play.”

 

“No-no, I can’t today.”

 

“Why not.”

 

“Because-Because I’m busy, Craig! Because I have a life outside of hanging out with you.  AH!”  Tweek stood and stormed off, leaving a very confused Craig behind him.

 

In the week leading up to the dance, Tweek hardly talked to Craig at all.  He stopped sitting by Craig at lunch, and never turned around to grin at him during class.  Craig wasn’t sure what he did to make Tweek hate him, but he was sad.  Tweek was pretty awesome, and without their fighting game, Craig was getting really pent up.  He tried to talk to the other boy several times, but Tweek shut him down.  It was through Jimmy, not Tweek, that he learned the two would be joining a group of guys going stag so they could still have fun at the dance.  He tried his very best not to dwell on it.  Instead, he rented a tux, made sure to get a blue tie that matched Heidi’s dress and bought a corsage.  

 

He and Clyde got a limo, along with Stan and Wendy, to take their dates to the Cheesecake factory.  When they picked up Heidi, Craig had another rush of second thoughts.  She looked pretty enough, with her hair up in a bun and her pimples covered with makeup.  But there was something about her that bothered Craig.  He ignored it, and tried to be polite on their ride to the restaurant.

 

“I just love the Cheesecake Factory,” Bebe said as they walked in.  

 

“I do too,” Heidi agreed.  “Everything is so good here.”

 

“I just hope I don’t get anything on my dress,” Wendy squeaked.  Stan patted her arm, smug grin on his face.  

 

Craig tuned out again, just surviving the dinner ordeal.  The girls chattered amongst themselves, and occasionally Stan or Clyde commented.  By the time they left, he was exhausted.  The limo’s plush seats were more comfortable than ever.  Finally, by some miracle of God, they arrived at the school.

 

“Let’s go dance, Craig!”

 

“Ok,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to a less crowded spot in the gym.  She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to be pressed against her breasts.  He squirmed uncomfortably.  He should be enjoying this.  This was what all guys wanted during homecoming.  But he wasn’t.  Maybe it was because Heidi was ugly.  That was probably it.  He endured the rest of the song, ignoring his date’s best attempts to seduce him.  When it was over, he pushed her away perhaps a touch too roughly.  “I’m gunna go to the bathroom.”

 

He made his way to the bathrooms, avoiding the happy couples grinding on the dance floor.  He opened the door to see Tweek leaning against the sink and crying.  Without a second thought, he hurried to Tweek, wrapping an arm around him.

 

“Hey,” he said.  “What’s wrong.”

 

“N-Nothing! AH! WHY DOES SOMETHING HAVE TO BE WRONG!”

 

“Why are you crying, dude?”

 

“Nothing, I just- AH! I had too much to drink tonight, ok?”

 

“You were drinking?  That’s not like you.”

 

“Well Jimmy had some vodka.  I guess I *hic* I had too much.”  Craig stared at his bloodshot eyes.  They darted nervously back and forth.  Despite the tears, Tweek had cleaned up well.  His normally wild hair had been tamed to swoop out at the ends, and his suit almost fit him properly.  Craig’s hand wandered to the golden locks.  He stroked Tweek’s hair, trying to calm the other boy.  “Where’s Heidi?”

 

“I don’t know.  Probably dancing with her friends.”

 

“You-Craig, AH! You should go back to her.”  Craig rolled his eyes.

 

“Honestly she’s been driving me crazy.”  Tweek’s head snapped up, and a huge smile lit up his face through the tears.

 

“She always seemed like a bitch.”

 

“She is,” Craig assured him. “You’re way more important.”

 

Tweek lay his head on Craig’s chest, in the quiet, empty bathroom, and Craig stroked his hair.  They stayed like that for over an hour, each afraid to move, to break the spell.  Somehow homecoming had been bearable.  


	5. Chapter 5

Craig never really dated after that. He figured if Heidi was too ugly for him, none of the other girls in South Park stood a chance. A tiny piece of him wondered if there was something more to it, but mostly he believed what he let his friends believe: he had far too high of standards to get lucky. Besides, most of the girls in South Park hated him after he ditched Heidi at prom. He couldn’t get with any of them even if he wanted to. Tweek started hanging out with him again. They didn’t play the fighting game as much as they used to, and when they did, Tweek got squeaky and anxious, and usually wouldn’t talk to him for a few days after. Tweek’s friendship meant more to him than the game, so he never started it. By the end of freshman year, Craig felt that things had reached a kind of equillibrium, a kind of normal, or at least as normal as things ever got in South Park. It was only when the superhero games became more than games that they began to change again.

It started, as things always did, with Stanley Marsh. He couldn’t just dress up with his douchey little friends, no, he had to bring Clyde into it. He just had to bring fucking Cthulhu to the earth to rule over 3000 years of darkness. BP might have been blamed, but Craig saw right through that. And when Cartman banished Stan and his friends to a dark oblivion, which was probably justified, Kenny was the only one to escape. Craig woke to Tweek screaming at the side of his bed, beside a ruffled looking Mysterion. He jumped nearly a foot in the air, before managing to compose himself.

“What the fuck do you guys want?” he asked, blearily rubbing his eyes.

“CRAAAIG!! CLYDE’S-GAH! HE’S TRAPPED IN A DARK OBLIVION! CTHULU, HE BANISHED THEM! KENNY ESCAPED TO TELL US! WE NEED TO HELP! AH!”

Craig sighed and looked at Kenny. “I’m guessing you have no idea how this happened. Cartman just suddenly decided to send you assholes to a dark oblivion. You had nothing to do with it.”

“Whatever your problems with Stan, they aren’t important right now. Will you help us or not?” 

“Clyde’s with them?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll help. God dammit.” 

“Good. We need transportation. Cthulhu just attacked a Justin Beiber concert, and you know how to drive.”

“I don’t have my license, dude. If I drive us, we could all get in trouble.”

“I know. But it’s the only chance we’ve got.”

“Kenny, even if we get there, we’re three kids. What are we going to do about it?”

Kenny sighed, walking to the window as though carrying a huge burden. “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You’ve gotta tell us,” Tweek said, shaking his body like a dog shaking off water.

“I can’t die. I literally can not die, and I’m not making this up. None of you remember. I’ve died hundreds of ways. So many times, I don’t even remember.”

Craig stared at him skeptically. “You don’t have to lie to us.”

“I knew you’d do this. I knew it. You’re just like all the rest of them.” 

“Woah hey, I’m better than Stan and those guys.” He exchanged a glance with Tweek. “We’ll help you get there. If you pay for gas.” He borrowed his dad’s car, hoping it wouldn’t be missed. Kenny, Butters, and some dorky kid he’d never really talked to piled into the car, and Craig reversed out of the garage, only hitting the curb once. He sped off down the road, three would-be superheros with him.

“GAH! They’re all in R’lyeh. We’re going to die!”

 

“We’re not going to die, Tweek, calm down.”

“YES WE ARE, CRAIG! WE’RE GOING TO DIE LIKE CLYDE!”

“In a world with a literal monster destroying cities, why is it so hard for everyone to believe me?”

“I think we’d remember if you died before, Kenny.”

“Can I interest anyone in some Miiintberrry Cruuunch cereal?” the kid asked.

“Fuck off, Bradley,” Mysterion said. “Craig. You’re different than the others. You saved the world once before. You’re special too. Just- try to remember next time. Please.”

“I didn’t mean to save the world, man, I was just in the right place at the right time.”

“You can deny it to yourself all you want. But you’re like me. If anyone can remember, you can. Please promise you’ll try.”

He sighed again. “I’ll try.”

Somehow, they made it. Craig didn’t crash the car, and no one, immortal or otherwise, died. “You guys should stay here,” Bradley said. “You mere humans could get hurt.”

“GAH! I think he’s right, dude.”

Craig turned to Kenny, annoyed at the chaos he’d been thrown into. “Bring Clyde back, Kenny.”

“I will.” When Craig turned to thank him, he was gone. Tweek twitched in the back seat, letting out terrified shrieks every few moments. “Screw those guys, Tweek. There’s nothing else we can do here. Let’s go home.”

“Craig, how will they get back?”

“Fucking Stan Marsh always finds a way. And I don’t want him to know we helped them. Come here.” He patted the passenger seat. Tweek crawled up to the front seat, biting his lip and twitching every inch. His hands were trembling violently, so Craig took one in his own. “They’ll be fine. We will too. Seriously, screw those guys. We’re going home.”

Tweek clung to his hand, tightly enough to leave red welts, the entire drive back to South Park. He didn’t seem to be able to formulate words, and Craig didn’t push him. He was too busy thinking about what Kenny had said. He’d done his best to push Peru out of his mind, but he had to admit, something pretty fucked up had happened there. And if he’d somehow destroyed a bunch of guinea pigs- could there be something to what Kenny was saying? He wasn’t sure, even when they got home and found Clyde was alive and well in Cartman’s basement. He and Tweek snuck into the stairway to see what had happened. Kenny beckoned them in, seeming to stare directly at Craig as he did so. 

“I’m going to bed,” he said. Then, Craig did a double take, he shot himself in the head.

“Jesus Christ, Kenny!” Stan said. Craig rushed into the room. 

“You-you bastard!” Kyle said. 

“Well stop just standing there!” Craig yelled. “Someone help him.”

 

“What-what are we supposed to do?” Kyle asked. His eyes were strangely cloudy.

“Yeah, dude, I’m done with this shit. Superheros are lame. Let’s go play football.”

 

“Yeah,” Clyde echoed. They all piled out of the basement, seeming to already forget Kenny’s demise. Craig stared after them in shock. Even Tweek followed them up the stairs. 

“Dude,” Craig said. That was all there was to say.


	6. Chapter 6

“So, what are you, dude?”

“I don’t know,” Kenny shrugged. ‘Mysterion’ had visited Craig a few nights later. Craig wasn’t sure what to make of him. “I couldn’t find out. Maybe I never will. What are you?” Craig shrugged. “Well at least we have each other. If anything like Cthulu happens again, we’ll be ready. Will you fight with me?”

“Okay,” Craig said. 

“I’m still looking, you know. I’ll tell you if I find anything out. About either of us.”

“Okay.” On sudden impulse, he added. “You know, you’re not as bad as the rest of them. You’re not as bad as I thought you were, I mean.” 

Kenny gave him a half smile behind his mask. “I know,” he whispered, and when Craig looked again he was gone. He went to sleep, vaguely uneasy for reasons he couldn’t put his finger on. 

He woke, once again, to Tweek screaming two feet from his face. This time, he rubbed his eyes, and looked up at Tweek with a tired frown. Tweek stared at him, wide-eyed for a moment, before letting out another shriek. Craig heard footsteps coming from the hall and quickly hopped from his bed, shoving a twitchy Tweek into his closet moments before his mother opened the door.

“Everything ok in here, Craig?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Okay. Go back to bed.” Craig flipped her off, watching her face scrunch in anger before raising a middle finger up to him and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Tweek opened the closet, frowning.

“Gah!” He threw a hand over his mouth, gasping. “Sorry, Craig.”

“What’s wrong, Tweek?” he asked, concerned. 

“They- AH! They posted a list, Craig! Of all our penis sizes! ALL OF THEM!” Craig rubbed a hand across his forehead.

“What?”

 

“Eric Cartman just tweeted it out! He’s calling to sue the school!”

Craig smirked. “Heh. Cartman’s got a small cock.”

“IT’S NOT FUNNY, DUDE! THIS IS SERIOUS.” 

Craig tried as hard as he could not to laugh, but eventually a giggle slipped past him. He coughed, but Tweek frowned, not seeming to buy it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Why is it serious?”

“Because! Our dicks are on there too!” Craig sat back on his bed.

“I don’t care.” Craig said crossing his arms. 

“I know YOU don’t.” Tweek stared at Craig’s crotch for a moment before blushing and turning away. “Er- but some of us. It’s embarrassing, Craig, I don’t know what to do.”

Craig felt heat rush to his groin, and for some reason his cock filled with blood. He shifted positions, hoping Tweek wouldn’t notice his problem. He wasn’t sure why, but the idea that Tweek had a smaller cock than him excited him. Maybe it was because of their fighting games, their struggle for dominance over one another. He’d won this one, even though they weren’t physically fighting. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It-it’s fine,” Tweek mumbled, shame-faced. “I don’t really care. I just don’t want the other kids to be ASSHOLES.”

“I won’t let them be assholes to you.”

“You-you promise?”

“I promise,” Craig said, grabbing Tweek’s hand and pulling him to the bed. They both let themselves fall backwards, Tweek laying across Craig’s outstretched arm. Tweek nuzzled against his arm absentmindedly. Craig pulled him closer. His cock was aching against the waistband of his boxers, dying for some form of stimulation. Blaming it on his teenaged hormones, he found himself saying, “I mean if you want we can practice fighting. So you can beat guys up if they try to mess with you.”

Tweek looked at him, face flushed a dark pink. “I’d like that,” he murmured. Craig flipped on top of him, taking firm hold of both Tweek’s wrists. He felt a sort of desperation he hadn’t felt before, a need for Tweek filling him, consuming him. He pinned the blond boy’s hands above his head, grinding himself against Tweek’s stomach. Tweek let out a gaspy moan, and twitched, arching his back to reach Craig’s hips. Craig pressed his dick against Tweek’s, noticing for the first time how much larger his was. He groaned, grinding harder, feeling how hard he was. Tweek’s eyes were wider than dinner plates, and he grabbed Craig’s arms.

“Touch me,” Tweek whispered, pulling Craig closer to him. Some part of Craig’s brain protested. That was crossing a line. That was gay, and Craig liked chicks. But the heat of Tweek below him, the soft feel of his clothes rubbing against him, his penis hard and aching against Tweek’s stomach pushed him past the line, and his hand was on Tweek’s cock, rubbing it between their stomachs as Craig thrust against him. Craig felt himself humping against Tweeks stomach, faster and harder as he chased his climax. Beneath him, Tweek began to twitch more than Craig had ever seen, letting out quiet gasps. Craig squeezed his cock, jerking it roughly until Tweek’s cock began to twitch too, releasing a stream of liquid as his mouth released a groan of pleasure. Craig thrust against Tweek’s soft stomach, the sounds from Tweek’s mouth pushing him over the edge to his own orgasm. He lay against Tweek for a moment before sitting, pulling Tweek up with him. Tweek glanced at him, no longer trembling. 

“Thanks, Craig. I think it’ll be ok.”

“It will be. These things never last long. Can I see the list?” Tweek handed Craig his phone open to twitter, and he scanned the list. He was pleasantly surprised to find he was in the top five for size, and delighted to find Eric Cartman was the smallest. Energy sucked out of him, he curled up next to Tweek, almost spooning him, and closed his eyes. Against him, Tweek was still, barely even breathing as though afraid to shatter some invisible spell. Craig drifted off to sleep, shutting off his brain so he wouldn’t sleep too much. 

When morning came, Tweek was gone. The bed was cold without him. Craig groaned, pulling himself out of bed for school. By the time he got there, Cartman was patrolling the halls with the corrected penis size list he’d posted to twitter, yelling to anyone that could hear that he was bigger than the school said, he’d measured. Craig found Tweek by his locker. Tweek looked at him, then smiled and glanced away. There was something different between them, something so close to awkwardness Craig didn’t dare mention it. Instead he leaned against the locker, looking as casual as he could.

“Hey Tweek.”

“Hey dude.”

“Do you want to hang out with Clyde and Kenny after school with me?”

“Yeah, okay. Kenny?”

“I’ve decided he’s not really one of Stan’s guys,” Craig said, with a lofty sniff. “He’s cool.”

“Okay,” Tweek said. Craig was almost to algebra by the time he realized Tweek hadn’t twitched once.


	7. Chapter 7

Craig tossed the ball to Cyde, who tossed it to Kenny who tossed it back to Craig.  He threw it again, this time to Kenny who threw it to Clyde who threw it to Craig.  There was something comforting in the repetitions.  Boredom.  Boredom had never bothered him, even now when Tweek was busy and there weren’t enough guys to do anything besides toss a football around like men whose fathers abandoned them. 

 

As quickly as his friends had taken to Tweek, they took to Kenny.  Kenny had more experience in the world of sex and drugs than the rest of them combined, and Clyde especially took quick advantage of it.  

 

“Hey Kenny,” Clyde said.  “What’s a rim job?”

 

“Mphmm mmphm mmphmmphmm phmphm.”  

 

They laughed in a mixture of horror and disgust.  “No way, dude, no one would ever want to do that.”

 

“Mphmphmphm mphmpm mmm.”  As though summoned, Cartman wandered up to their spot by Stark’s pond.

 

“Hey gahs.  God dammit, Kinny, my mom doesn’t suck ass.”

 

“Mmmm mff mmms.”

 

“HEY!” Cartman shoved him, nearly sending him toppling into the pond.

 

“What are you doing here, fat ass?”  Craig asked.

 

“Suck my balls, Craig.  Can I hang out with you guys?  My friends are all lame right now.  Kinny’s being an asshole, Stan’s all depressed and Kahl’s grounded for making crack babies fight each other.”  Kenny mumbled something under his breath and shot Cartman a glare.

 

“Do you like basketball?” Craig asked.

 

“Yeah, dude, I’m totally sweet at basketball.  Why?”

 

“Wanna play two on two?  We need another guy.”

 

“That’d be kewl.”  And suddenly, just like that, Craig was hanging out with two members of Stan’s gang.  And he didn’t totally hate it.  Cartman, while he was definitely still a complete toolbag, was actually kind of funny.  He was almost sad when the day was over and Cartman left.  Not that he’d ever admit it.  Clyde had a way of picking up strays and adopting them.  Craig had been one of them himself once, so he tried not to judge.  So had Token and Jimmy, come to think of it.  Although Clyde would never admit it, he was the one that made them a group in the first place.  Craig walked home, half-hoping he’d run into Tweek at his parents coffee shop.  He ran into a very drunk Stan Marsh instead, wandering down the streets singing ‘Rolling in the Deep.’  Craig rolled his eyes so hard they almost got stuck in his brain.  Then he pulled Stan down the corner, into an alley that would have been creepy anywhere outside of their quiet mountain town.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he asked.

 

“Craaaaaig,” Stan slurred.  “Why do we-hic, why do we always gotta be fighting, man?  I don’t want to fight.  I-I  _ like  _ that you don’t give a fuck.  I wish I could be more like that.”  To Craig’s horror, he fell forward, slinging his arms across Craig’s shoulders.  He could smell the bitter scent of whiskey on his breath hot against his face.

 

“Get off,” he muttered, but Stan didn’t seem capable.  Swearing, he lowered him to the filthy ground.  He walked back to Tweek’s coffee shop, hoping he’d be fast enough to prevent Stan being seen by anyone.  A little bell rang as he opened the door and a smiling Mr. Tweak greeted him.

 

“Hello, young man.  Would you like to try our new dark roast?  It’s smooth and silky, like the night sky after a bout of rain.  A dim forest at twilight, touched by the world but somehow unmoved by it, standing where it has for millennia, cool and inviting.”

 

“Er- sure.  Is Tweek here?”

 

“That’ll be $1.95.  He’s in the back.  You can go and grab him if you like.”  Craig grabbed the coffee and hurried to the back. He found Tweek sweeping the shop.

 

“Hey dude.  Stan Marsh is out in the alley passed out drunk.  Can you help me?”

 

“AH! Stan Marsh?  What is he doing here?  Why is he drunk?  He’s trying to get me in trouble!”

 

“No, I don’t think he knows where he is.  He’s pretty fucked up.”

 

“GAH! Okay.  Jesus Christ, I hate him.”

 

“Me too,” Craig said, taking hold of Tweek’s arm to pull him out of the back door and into the alley where Stan lay peacefully snoring.  Craig shook him awake, and, after a moment of deliberation, slapped him in the face.  Purely for his own good.  Stan rubbed his eyes and smiled when he saw them crouched beside him.

 

“Tweeek! Craaaig.  You guys are better friends than my real friends.  You didn’t leave me.”

 

“Drink this,” Craig said handing him the coffee.  Stan took a gulp and made a face.

 

“This is disgusting.”

 

“Nngggh just drink it!  Gah! You’re disgusting!”  Stan drank, mollified.  

 

“Thanks, you guys, hic, I think I feel a little better.”  He tried to stand, leaning heavily against the wall before sinking back to the ground.  “The world is spinning.”

 

“Let’s get him home,” Craig said.  They each grabbed an arm and lugged Stanley to his feet.  “What if someone sees us?”

 

“OH GOD! WHAT IF SOMEONE SEES US? WE’LL GET IN TROUBLE TOO!”

 

“It’s ok, Tweek, calm down.  We’ll just take the back roads.”

 

“THERE AREN’T ANY BACK ROADS IN SOUTH PARK!”

 

“Okay, well.  We’ll just be careful then.” 

 

Tweek looked over his shoulder twitching and groaning the whole way there.  Somehow, they managed to get Stan upstairs without his mom asking too many questions.  Craig heaved a rare sigh of relief as he shrugged Stan onto his bed.

 

“I’m seriously,” Stan choked, as though pushing back tears.  “I love you guys.  I really do.  I fucking love you guys.”

 

“You’ll forget this happened tomorrow.”

 

“That doesn’t matter.  I fucking love you guys.  And I love you together.”  Craig shared a confused glance with Tweek.  “I don’t care if I forget this, you can’t forget this.  You guys are- burp- you’re just so perfect.  Just so-”  Stan’s eyes fluttered, then shut.

 

“He’s fucking delusional,” Craig said.  Tweek’s face fell, almost imperceptibly.  

 

“Yeah, I’m not gay, dude! GAH!”

 

“Me either,” Craig said.  There was something about that thought, though, being with Tweek.  For half a moment, he pictured it: walking down the street with Tweek’s hand in his, kissing him, falling asleep with Tweek’s head on his chest… He pushed the thoughts away, confused.  He was straight.  Straight as a fucking arrow.  He loved chicks.  Clearly he was just confusing friendship with something else.  It had been a weird day, and stupid Stan Marsh had stressed him out.  That was all.   _That was all._


	8. Chapter 8

After that, Kenny and Cartman became regular parts of their group. Kyle and Stan tagged along, mostly because Clyde liked them, but Craig never paid them any attention. They were both still self righteous assholes as far as he was concerned. But they'd stuck by Clyde after his mom got her butt sucked out by a toilet, so he tolerated them for Clyde's sake. The end of their sophomore year ended without much fanfare. He and Tweek played the fighting game as often as they got a chance. Stan Marsh smelled like liquor in the hallways at least thirty percent of the time Craig ran into him. And Clyde dealt with his mother's death as well as anyone could expect him to, despite the toilet-shaped shrine he kept in his garage. Everything was normal and boring. Just the way Craig liked it. Until he kissed Tweek.

 

It started during Stan's stupid antibullying video. The whole thing was so draining and stupid, when it was over all he wanted to do was go home and mindlessly play video games. Tweek caught up with him on his walk home, as twitchy as usually.

 

"H-hey dude," he said. "Did you see Butters? He got his ass kicked. Gah! What if they follow us home and kick our asses?" Craig smiled. Tweek's worrying had become a constant melody to his life. Having it in his ears always calmed him.

 

"Don't worry. Butters is a little pussy. You're a bad ass. You could fight off any bully that tried anything." Tweek smiled. He had been twitching less lately, to Craig's satisfaction. "Do you want to come over?"

 

"Yeah! Is that okay?" 

 

"Of course. I want you to. We could do homework or whatever." Tweek nodded. He twisted his lip up, though, and looked from side to side. "What's up? You look like you want to say something."

 

"It's just- I don't care, you know. Gah! Not even a little. But I heard some of the girls saying that Annie and you have been-been, GAH! Hanging out. And she has a thing for you, Craig! She wants to-AH! She wants to kiss you. Maybe-Maybe more."

 

"Oh," Craig said.

 

"Well?"

 

"Well what?"

 

"DO YOU WANT TO KISS ANNIE FAULK!?!" Tweek spazzed out, opening and shutting her eyes. "GAH! Not that I care. I just-nggg- curious."

 

Craig shrugged. It was a question a lot of people had been asking, though not usually as emphatically. "I'm helping her with calc, dude. She got handsy with me last week and I told her I wasn't into it." He took a deep breath, not used to talking that much. With most people he had just said "No," but Tweek was a special case. Craig couldn't say for sure why, maybe because they were such good friends, but he deserved more of an explanation. Tweek heaved a very obvious sigh of relief and Craig stared at him quizzically for a moment before moving on.

 

"Oh. Well- GAH! What girl do you want to kiss?" Craig thought about it.

 

"I don't know."

 

"Come on-GAH! Everyone wants to kiss someone."

 

"Well who do you want to kiss?" Tweek flushed a brilliant red, and Craig raised an eyebrow. He waited silently, knowing Tweek would break first.

 

"No-NOBODY!" he said.

 

"Okay." Sometimes with Tweek it was better to just let it go for a while. The truth always came out eventually. They walked to Craig's house in silence. Every once and a while, Craig found his arm hitting Tweek's. They always walked closely to each other, and Craig wasn't sure if it was his fault or Tweak's. Craig let them in, scouting the house for his parents just in case one of them had gotten home early, but they were in the clear. 

 

"So do you want to start with history?" Tweek asked.

 

"Sure," Craig said. They only got through one question before Tweek started twitching again. "What's wrong, Tweek?"

 

"Just-Just thinkingaboutkissing! GAH! What if I do it wrong? What if I don't know what to do?" 

 

"You'll know what to do."

 

"NNNggg do you not worry about that? HOW DO YOU NOT WORRY ABOUT THAT?" Craig shrugged.

 

"I just think it will happen when it happens. If it happens."

 

"I-I don't even know who it'll be WITH! I don't know ANYTHING-nnggg-"

 

"Dude, why do you have to know right now?"

 

"BECAUSE! AH!"

 

"Why?"

 

"BECAUSE I WANT TO KISS SOMEONE! GAH!" Craig's mouth fell open.

 

"Oh."

 

"OH?!? THAT'S ALL YOU CAN SAY? I AM FREAKING OUT, MAN! NNGGGG-" And then Craig scooted a butt closer, not sure exactly what he was doing. He took Tweek's cheek in his hand, and pulled their faces together. Without quite realizing what was happening, Craig brought his lips to Tweek's. The kiss was clumsy at first as both of them figured out what to do with their lips, where to put their hands, but it didn't end. Their lips moved against one another, tentatively exploring, and Craig found his hand tangled in Tweak's fine blond hair, then on his back, pulling him gently closer. Tweek was so warm against him, so vulnerable in his arms. He never wanted the moment to end.

 

Tweek pulled away first. They stared at one another, speaking with their eyes as though the utterance of a word would break the spell. They stayed like that for a few minutes, marveling at one another. After a while, Craig was the one to speak first. 

 

"So- you don't have to worry about kissing. You're pretty good at it." Tweek lit up, and Craig was afraid. Something about Tweek, about his feelings for the twitchy blond, was terrifying. And anyways kissing Tweek was a little gay. And he definitely, certainly, was not gay. Hating himself, he hurried to add, "You're going to make whatever girl you wanted to kiss very happy."

 

A shadow fell over Tweek's face, as obvious as a cloud across the sun, and Craig felt horrible. He hated seeing Tweek anxious and sad, and here he was, the one making him anxious and sad. But Tweek wasn't gay either. There was no way he felt anything for Craig. They were just very close friends. Who occasionally kissed or got each other off. Tweek looked away then, and Craig could have sworn there was a tear in his eye. "R-Right," he said. "Thanks for prac-AH!-practicing with me. I should go. I need nnnggg need coffee."

 

"You don't have to go," he said softly. Tweek looked back at him for a moment, something like regret in his eyes, but then he stood from the couch, shattering whatever had remained of the spell over them.

 

"Yeah, I do, dude. I'll see you at school."

 

"I thought we were going to hang out tomorrow. I thought we were going to run Stripe down an obstacle course."

 

"Yeah, well. I-AH! I just remembered, I'm really nnng busy. Sorry."

 

"Okay," Craig said. He had ruined everything, he knew. Whatever weird thing was between them that neither of them acknowledged, it was over now. He walked Tweek to the door, but Tweek didn't even turn to look at him as he walked away. Craig watched him go, feeling his heart wrench a little more out of his heart with every step further Tweek took. He closed the door when he could no longer see Tweek's back retreating into the distance.

 

~~~~

 

That week, Craig jerked it to straight porn every night, just to make sure he wasn't turning gay or anything. Tweek ignored him at school, not even meeting his eyes in the hallways. He still sat with Token and Clyde, but they had become his friends too, and Craig was ashamed to find he was disappointed that Tweek didn't need to rely on him to have friends anymore. If he had been, he would have been forced to talk to Craig. He watched Tweek from a distance, when they went the same way, stared at the back of his head in his classes, then went home and touched himself to straight porn to make sure his brain wasn't secretly pining after Tweek or anything like that. Afterall, he just missed his friend. He had a hard time finding women he was interested in, so he mostly watched the men, jerking his cock and wishing it was inside some faceless, bodiless woman instead of in his hand.

 

Kenny showed up a few nights later, right after Craig finished doing his nightly duties. Lube and tissues still sat on his desk, and he had just closed the porn tab. His deflating dick hung out of his boxers and he heard a soft "Hey," from his open window. He nearly jumped out of his skin, throwing his cock back into his boxers and sweeping the lube off the table. Mysterion was smirking at him from outside.

 

"Dude. What the fuck."

 

"I needed to talk to you. Not my fault you were jerking off."

 

"I wasn't-" Craig stopped. It had been very obvious. "What do you want, Kenny."

 

"I want to talk. Butters is getting hurt more every day. It started a few weeks ago. I don't understand what's going on."

 

"Yeah, that's what Stan's whole thing is."

 

"Fuck Stan," Kenny said, and Craig wholeheartedly agreed. "Look, no one else knows about me. I want to try to find out what's going on, but I don't think I can do it alone. Will you help?"

 

Craig sighed, glaring to convey his distaste at being forced into adventures. "Why do you care?"

 

"I don't know," Mysterion said, sounding frustrated. "But I hate seeing him like that. Butters is so naive, he probably doesn't even think his abuser is doing anything wrong. If I don't protect him, who will?"

 

"Okay," Craig said. "So I suppose your plan is to valiantly follow Butters around the school and get beat up by any bullies that want to beat him up."

 

"It isn't happening at school. I already looked there."

 

"Then you're going to stalk him at home and hope that's less harmful than what the bully is doing."

 

"Well- yeah. You don't have to be a dick, Craig."

 

"Sorry," he said, not sure if he meant it or not. "I'll help. Let me get dressed."

 

"You might want to clean that up too," Kenny said, pointing. Craig followed his finger to where the bottle of lube he'd pushed off the desk was leaking, uncovered, onto the carpet. He flipped Kenny off and grabbed a few more tissues.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time they reached the Stotch house, Craig was over his embarrassment. Everyone jacked off, after all, and Kenny probably more than most. Mysterion gracefully scaled a rain pipe and looked down at Craig from the roof. "Are you coming or not?" Craig sighed. He managed to get onto the roof with a lot of help from Kenny, but scraped his knee on the rough shingles. There was something very wrong about being on someone else's roof and staring into their windows. He felt like an evil ninja. They creeped along the roof, looking into windows as they came across them. The first was empty, and clearly Butters' room. The second held his parents, who were watching TV in bed. In the third, they found what they were looking for.

 

At first glance, it was entirely innocent. Just a nice, elderly lady with her back to them sitting in a rocking chair. On further glance, however, the scene was far more sinister. Butters stood cowered against the wall, sporting new cuts and bruises around his face, and the old woman held a pair of very sharp-looking knitting needles, which she pointed at Butters menacingly as she rocked. Kenny motioned him forward, and he moved up with his friend, close enough to hear the muffled voices inside.

 

"I won't tell nobody, I promise! Ah, hamburgers."

 

"You might not get a chance to tell anyone, Butters, dear. You might be too dead." The click of knitting needles echoed out into the night air.

 

"Please, grandma, don't hurt me." Butters began to sob, and next to him, Kenny tensed up. "I promise, I won't tell nobody, please!"

 

"Weellll," the old woman said, clicking the needles together. "If you're a good boy and don't tell anyone then I guess we're okay, punk. But get out of here before I change my mind." Butters ran out of the room still sobbing. Kenny was white with rage.

 

"That's some fucked up shit right there," he said.

 

"Yeah," Craig said. "Butters is getting beat up by an old lady."

 

"It's his fucking grandmother. What's he supposed to do, fight back? His parents have kept him cowed for his entire life. He can't win a fight like this. He needs me."

 

"So what are you going to do? Beat up an old lady?"

"Stay there," he hissed. "Cover me."

 

"Cover what?" But Kenny was already gone through the window. Craig pressed his ear against the wall trying to hear what was happening. 

 

"Hello," a sweet elderly voice called. "Who are you, young man? Why are you on a roof top?"

 

"Listen to me, and listen carefully," Kenny said. "I am Mysterion. I know what you do to Butters. Threatening him, stealing his money. You make me sick. You disgust me."

 

"And what are you going to do about it, punk? There's nothing you can do. He's my grandson and I'm within my rights to treat him however I see fit."

 

"If you continue to harm him, I will haunt you everywhere you go. I will be in your mirror at night with knitting needles. I'll punch you when you sleep. I'll do everything to you that you do to Butters."

 

"Oh will you now? You think I'm afraid of some little snot-nosed brat in a faggy little superhero costume?" The clicking of knitting needles started up again. "You fucking try anything and I'll make his life even more of a living hell. You understand me, you little brat?" Craig heard the sound of a punch and peered into the window. Kenny was backing away from the old woman now, and she grabbed her face, nursing the bruise he'd undoubtedly left. "Oh, now you're gunna get it."

 

Kenny ran at her again, this time kicking her low in the leg, running away before she could reach him. She let out a high pitched shriek, and Craig held his breath, worried she'd wake the whole household. There were no sounds of stirring. Kenny leaped at her, aiming for her arm, but this time she was ready. She grabbed onto Kenny and shoved one of the needles into his eye. Kenny let out a yell, flailing to get away, but his flailing stopped after a few moments. She threw him to the ground, and there was a soft thump of flesh on wood. "That'll teach you to mess with me, sucker." She walked toward the window, dragging Kenny along with her. Craig scooted back across the roof. The window screeched open, and Kenny's lifeless body soared out of it, narrowly missing Craig on its way to the ground. Craig watched his friend with worried eyes. What if this time Kenny didn't come back? And Craig was stuck on the roof of a house with a murderer?

 

"Hey Craig." He jumped, and Kenny had to grab his arm to stop him from falling off the roof.

 

"Dude. You've got to stop doing that."

 

"Sorry," Kenny said, back to his fake deep voice. He strutted past Craig to the window, but paused and looked inside. Craig watched Butters come back into the room, looking at his grandmother on the bed, before launching into a speech about how when he was grown and successful, he'd visit her as a reminder she was nothing more than a shell of a person. He raised and eyebrow at Kenny. Butters walked out, and to Craig's shock, his grandma burst into tears, hiding her face in the pillow.

 

"Wow," he said.

 

"He didn't need me afterall," Kenny said. He sounded disappointed, and Craig stared at him, trying to sus out the reason. He wondered if Kenny liked Butters. But that was impossible. There was no way that Kenny liked guys. He just didn't seem like the type.

 

"Well at least he can stand up for himself. I didn't think he had it in him."

 

"He can be pretty surprising. I don't know why we don't hang out with him more." Craig shrugged, cold and uncomfortable with his worn Bronco's pajamas. 

 

"I'm going to go home, dude." 

 

"Oh, okay." Kenny stood perched by Butters' grandmother's window, showing no signs of wanting to leave. Craig shrugged, managing to get down to the ground without hurting himself too terribly. He walked home, limping and cursing Kenny for making him get out of his warm bed in the middle of the night for nothing. He waved at an alien hiding behind a tree, who waved back. He sighed, wishing he lived in a normal town, without aliens, where boys never had confusing feelings about their male friends. 

 

He watched Kenny around Butters more closely the next day at school. Kenny definitely seemed to pay him a lot of attention, laughing at everything he said and staring at him too frequently for it to be coincidence. Tweek was still avoiding Craig. Six days had passed since they'd said more than a word or two to each other. It hit him like a knife in the gut every time they passed in the hallway, the turning away of his eyes, and the extra twitchiness when he noticed Craig near him. Tweek used to twitch less when he was near, and now Craig was just another stresser in his friend's life. It killed him. He wished he had never kissed him, cursing himself for not thinking it through. He caught up with Tweek on his walk home, feeling guilty about the stress it would cause him. But it had been six days, six days without even speaking, and Craig was beginning to think he'd messed everything up for good.

 

"Hey, dude," he said when he was close enough.

 

"AH!" Tweek said, startled. "Oh. Hey Craig." He looked down at the sidewalk.

 

"Can we talk?"

 

"I-I nnngg I'm really busy. Sorry."

 

"I'll make it fast."

 

"Gah! Okay, fine."

 

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the other day," he said, wondering if his voice sounded flat. He injected all the emotion he had into the next sentence. "I never meant to hurt you and I'm sorry that I did. But I can't have you not be friends with me, Tweek. I know you don't want that either. Look-can we just forget that it ever happened? It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it."

 

"Stupid," Tweek said, still staring at his feet. "Yeah."

 

"Can we please just go back to the way things were before? I-Stripe misses you." The corners of Tweek's mouth twitched. 

 

"He does?"

 

"Of course he does. You're his favorite person besides me." Tweek's lips curved into a real smile, and he glanced up at Craig, if only for a moment.

 

"Alright. It never happened. We can't ever bring it up again, though. Okay?"

 

"Okay," Craig agreed, warmth flowing through him. He hadn't lost Tweek. Not yet. "Want to come to my house? My sister's probably home but we could play with Stripe for a bit."

 

"I actually am busy," Tweek said, hint of apology in his tone. "I have to work at the shop. GAH! My mom has a doctor's appointment and it's SO MUCH PRESSURE!"

 

"I'm sure you'll do great. I'll see you tomorrow though?"

 

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said. Craig got the feeling that he wasn't entirely forgiven, but it was a start, wasn't it? Things were better than they'd been that morning, and for now Craig would take that. He watched Tweek walk away from him, that fluffy blond hair blowing against the wind and he tried not to be too hurt. He made it home, and played with Stripes with Ruby instead, trying not to miss Tweek.

 

The next day, as he had promised, Tweek met him in front of the school. He looked nervous, more than his usual level of nerves, and when Craig approached he started to twitch. Craig felt a stab of pain again, but ignored it, hoping that someday, if he was good enough, Tweek would be able to forgive him for making everything so weird.

 

"Hey Tweek," he said.

 

"GAAAAH!!" Tweek said, flipping his hands around in blind panic. When he had gotten himself under control, he choked out, "H-hey Craig."

 

"How are you doing?" he asked carefully.

 

"I-I nnnnggg I'm okay. I'll be okay. I just-haven't. Had. Enough. COFFEE today." Craig rolled his eyes. He didn't understand Tweek's obsession with the stuff. To Craig, coffee was just bitter liquid that made him jumpy. Tweek acted like it was the water of life, the way he talked about it.

 

"Do you want me to get you coffee?" he offered. Tweek nodded furiously, so Craig took his arm and led him into the school, down to the school store which carried Tweek's drug of choice. He walked up to the counter, and a grumpy-looking woman looked him up and down.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

"One coffee please," he said, holding out his seventy-five cents. The woman growled, taking the money and throwing it into the cash register, which she slammed. She bustled about the store for a moment, and Craig's grip on Tweek tightened. After what felt like a million years, she returned with a steaming cup. 

 

"Have a nice day," she said, as though she wished they would have horrible days. Craig thanked her and got Tweek out of the store, which wasn't more than a closet, really. They sat in the hallway, Tweek sipping the coffee. His eye twitched every once and a while, every time he looked at Craig, actually. Craig sighed, praying to every god he didn't believe in that Tweek could forgive him someday, that things could go back to the way they used to be.

 

"Want a sip?" Tweek offered. Craig didn't want a sip, but he wanted Tweek to like him, so he held out his hand and took the hot cup. He raised it to his lips and let a little of the dark liquid fall into his mouth. He made a face and quickly handed the cup back to Tweek.

 

"Not my thing," he muttered. Tweek nodded, taking huge gulps. "Feel better?"

 

"Yeah, dude. Thanks," Tweek said, offering him a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. 

 

"Sure. Do you think Kenny has a thing for Butters?" he asked suddenly. Tweek's eyes grew wide as they met Craig's.

 

"WHAT!? KENNY ISN'T GAY!"

 

"Well that's what I thought. But the way Kenny acts around him... I don't know. I kind of see it."

 

"You're nnngg crazy," Tweek said, grinning a little. "There's no way. Kenny talks about pussy more than any guy I know."

 

Craig grinned in relief. Tweek was coming down from his anxiety now, slowly settling back into his normal self. "I mean so does Paul Ryan, and we all know he takes it up the ass."

 

Tweek snickered, and before Craig could stop himself he was laughing too, infected by Tweek's hysterical giggles. "Can you imagine Butters having sex?" Tweek choked. "Oh, boy, I don't know if you should touch me there, Kenny. That's my no no place."

 

Craig snorted with laughter, leaning his head back and snapping it into the wall by accident. Pain filled him and black dots spun in front of his vision. "Are you okay?" Tweek asked, through gales of laughter. Craig didn't answer, he just laughed, eyes flling with tears of mirth and pain mixed into one. 

 

Finally he got himself under control enough to speak, eyes still swimming with tears. "Yeah, dude. No, I'm fine. I'm way better now."


	10. Sarcastaball

Craig tried his best to keep things normal, he really did. He knew if things got too weird again he could lose Tweak forever, and he wasn't really sure if he could handle that. It wasn't his fault that Randy Marsh had burst into their school, yet again, this time to coach them at some stupid new game called Sarcastaball. It wasn't his fault that Tweek was pretty good at it, and he sucked. It seemed only natural for Tweek to go over to his house to help him with the finer points of the game, namely how to restrain the middle finger that made an appearance every time he grew too frustrated with the game. 

 

"Dude, this game sucks," Craig complained as they walked home. "There's no skill involved. I don't get it."

 

"Gah! I know. I don't like it nnng either, but it looks like it's sticking around. You've got to know how to play, Craig." Craig sighed, moodily kicking a pebble ahead of him.

 

"I know." Tweek gave him a twitchy smile and Craig returned it despite himself. He let them into the house, where a very annoyed looking Tricia sat on the couch. "Hey, Trish."

 

"Hey."

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing." Craig rolled his eyes.

 

"Oh really? Then why are you sitting on the couch staring at a blank wall like you always do when you're upset?" She flipped him off, and he returned the gesture with a grin. 

 

"It's just this stupid girl at my school. She acts like she's so much better than everyone else just because she's already allowed to wear makeup. I hate her."

 

"Fuck her," Craig said. "She's just insecure. And jealous that she's not as pretty as you, even with makeup."

 

Tricia glare at him. "Gross, Craig."

 

"GAH! Just tell her nngg that she can go fuck herself since she looks so pretty." 

 

Tricia giggled. "Thanks, Tweek, I like that."

 

"Want to play Sarcastaball with us?" Craig asked. Tricia wrinkled up her nose.

 

"I'd rather walk through a snake garden barefoot. You two have fun with that. I'm going to go do homework." She pranced upstairs, looking a little happier. Craig led the way to the backyard, then blew air into a balloon, feeling stupid.

 

"Nnng your sister's pretty cool," Tweek said.

 

"Yeah, she's alright. She's too smart for her own good."

 

"AH! But that's good, right? You want her to be smart!"

 

"Yeah it'll be great when I don't have to deal with her sarcasm constantly." Tweek gave him a pointed look, which Craig chose to ignore. Instead, he lobbed the balloon at his friend's head. Or tried. Because it was a balloon, it drifted gracefully through the air in a lazy arch, landing in Tweek's arms. "So how do we do this thing?"

 

"GAH! Butters taught me. That's how I know anything about it. I guess mainly the point of the game is to be a better person than your opponents."

 

"Sarcastically?"

 

"No, honestly." Craig rubbed his head.

 

"I can give you sarcastically. I can be very convincing with my sarcasm." Tweek gave him that look again, so Craig flipped his middle finger up, placing it a few inches from Tweek's face. "Fuck you."

 

"And you're already losing," Tweek said, mischievous grin on his face. "So we have to compliment each other. And something about hugging each other? I'm not really sure how we score."

 

"This game is stupid."

 

"Come on, you have to learn."

 

"It sounds like you don't know how to play." 

 

"Craig-just, okay, try complimenting me."

 

Craig sighed, rolling his eyes. "Tweek, you have a lovely voice. Especially when you're talking about the rules of a game that doesn't exist. I love it when you make no sense."

 

Tweek glared at him. "The game being called Sarcastaball doesn't mean you get to be an asshole."

 

Craig cast his eyes to the sky, wondering at the things he did to keep Tweek's friendship. "Okay. Fine. Tweek, I like your hair."

 

Tweek's frown lessened imperceptibly. "Good. Now we have to rush the ball. But if I catch you with it, you have to hug me."

 

"Why."

 

"Nnnnng it's just the rule, Craig!" 

 

"Fine. Go." Tweek ran at him, and Craig spun around, gripping the slippery balloon between his hands and trying not to let it escape his grasp. "This is stupid."

 

He ran past Tweek, but got tagged anyways, making him grumble and drop the balloon. "So now what happens? Do I keep running or do you get the balloon back?"

 

"Well, first we hug," Tweek said. He held out his arms, a little angrily for Craig's taste, but Craig hugged him anyways, awkwardly, trying not to let them get too close. It was hard to stay away from Tweek, but if he wanted them to be friends, it was a necessity. "Okay. Now, you pick up the ball and run again. You get two more tries. But you can get points for compliments."

 

"Okay," Craig said, biting back a few choice commentsand gripping the balloon in one hand. "Seeeet-"

 

"No, not like that. You've got to compliment me to start the play again," Tweek said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

 

"This is gay."

 

"YOU'RE GAY!" Craig panicked for a moment before realizing Tweek was just retorting. 

 

"Tweek, you have a beautiful nose."

 

"GAH! My nose? What's so special about my nose?"

 

Craig hadn't really thought the compliment through. It was just the first thing to come into his head. "I don't know," he said, stalling for time as he raked his eyes over Tweek's face. "It's just very straight."

 

"Oh," Tweek said. "Okay, run!" Craig ran, this time managing to avoid Tweek and make his way all the way to the far end of the backyard. He cawed in victory.

 

"Great job," Tweek said. Craig flipped him off, and did a victory lap around him. "Nnng in the real game you lose points for rude gestures. Just so you know."

 

"Yeah, yeah," Craig said. "So now what?" 

 

"Well, now it's my turn." They lined up facing one another again, balloon on the ground. "Craig, I think you have gorgeous eyes."

 

Craig's hands went to his cheeks, as though to feel his eyes and see what exactly was so gorgeous about them. His heart skipped a beat, maybe two. By the time he'd recovered, Tweek was already far away, sprinting towards his end zone, where he gently let the ball float to the ground. 

 

"See, dude? It's not all stupid. You can use the compliments or hugs to distract your opponents. I think that's what Butters does. He's a lot smarter than we give him credit for."

 

Craig snorted, the thought of Butters being smart was hilarious. "Nice score. Hope you don't like the feeling of winning too much, because it was your last."

 

Tweek got a glint in his eyes, a glint Craig couldn't place right away. "Bring it, butthole."

 

They lined up again, this time the balloon in Craig's hands. "Tweek," he said. "I love it when you twitch when we hug."

Tweek blushed, and twitched, but still got to his feet and chased after Craig, tagging him before he could get more than a few feet. Craig let the balloon drift to the ground and hugged Tweek, feeling him tremble against his chest. This time it took longer for him to let go, but he forced himself to. They lined up again, that glint in Tweek's eye more pronounced, and Craig recognized it. It was competitiveness. He felt a flash run through him as well. He may not have cared about the game, may have thought it was stupid, but there was no way he was going to let Tweek beat him. 

 

He took a deep breath, trying to channel Butters' sweet naivete. "Tweek, when you smile it's like a ray of sunshine," he said in a flat voice. Inwardly he gave an evil chuckle as he ran past his friend, who had paused, and ran all the way to the neighbor's fence, where he turned around and gave Tweek a triumphant grin. Tweek scowled.

 

"Bring it back. This isn't over. Not by a long shot." They played for what felt like hours. Craig was good at distractions, but Tweek was fast, and he knew just how to get under Craig's skin. By the time they stopped, both of them were panting, covered in sweat from head to toe. Craig wanted to keep going, and he would have, too, but Tricia came out to see what they were up to.

 

"Hey guys," she said. "Mom's home, Craig."

 

"Oh. Thanks, Trish." The game was over, then. He knew he shouldn't have cared; sarcastaball was all the rage these days. The NFL was even turning to it instead of football, but something about the game, especially the intimacy of it when he played with Tweek... Well, it wasn't for his mother's eyes. "So who won?"

 

Tweek frowned. "We're tied. We can't stay tied. We've gotta go one more round." Tricia sat on the patio, cross-legged, watching them. Craig didn't care. Well, he tried not to care. It was just his little sister, afterall. She wouldn't judge him. She was almost a friend, as close as a little sister could be to a friend. He lined up with Tweek one last time, staring him down. Tweek had the ball. The blond boy opened his mouth, and Craig told himself over and over that he wouldn't react, no matter what Tweek said.

 

"So Craig," Tweek began, glint back in his eyes. "If you were a girl, you know I'd totally date you, right?" Craig was petrified. Just the idea... if Tweek was a girl, he'd probably date him too. Did that make him gay? Because he definitely, most certainly, wasn't gay. By the time he managed to recover enough to chase after him, Tweek was triumphantly doing a victory dance by the other fence. Craig scowled. Of course he hadn't meant it. He was only playing the game. 

 

"Nice goal," he said reluctantly. Tweek gave him a mocking bow. Tricia looked between the two of them, opening her mouth as though to speak, but a voice boomed out from the house, startling her and sending her scurrying.

 

"TRICIA RUBY TUCKER. GET YOUR ASS INSIDE RIGHT NOW."

 

Tricia ran, turning over her shoulder to wave to him and Tweek before disappearing inside. Craig looked at Tweek, trying his hardest not to be a sore loser. "That was a good move back there."

 

"I know," Tweek said with a grin. "You're getting pretty good, though. Next time we play I could be in trouble."

 

"Oh, next time rest assured I'm kicking your ass." He popped the balloon between his hands, making Tweek jump and let out a soft, "AGH!" He grinned. "Well I should probably go inside and say hi to my mom. Do you want to come?"

 

"Nnggg no, I should get home. I'm supposed to-AH! work at the store tonight." Craig frowned, noticing the jumpiness had come back. The sarcastaball game had been a good distraction for Tweek from his anxiety. He'd have to think of similar ways, ways to keep Tweek calm.

 

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Bye, dude."

 

"AH! Bye," Tweek said before scampering off through the gate to the front yard. Craig sighed as he watched him go, then walked inside, hoping his mom had gotten all her rage out on Trish.

 

Tricia corned him that evening, once their parents had gone to bed. She, as per usual, didn't knock, and Craig was very glad to have pants on this time. "Hey Trish," he said. 

 

"Hey Craig. So I was thinking. I really like your friend Tweek, and he said he'd date you if you were a girl. And I was thinking, well, I'm a girl. So I wanted to know if you'd give him my number."

 

Craig felt a flash of anger run through his brain. "No."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because he wouldn't be interested in you."

 

"Are you sure that's why?" she asked, hands on her hips.

 

"Yes. And I don't want you dating him."

 

"Ah-ha!" she pointed at him in victory. "I knew it. You like Tweek."

 

"No. I really don't," he said, annoyed. "I just don't want my sister dating one of my best friends."

 

"You can lie to yourself all you want, Craig, but I know the truth. You are totally gay for Tweek."Craig flipped her the bird, not sure what else to do. She gave it back, but the grin on her face didn't change. "You liiiiike Tweeeeek. Why are you so afraid of liking him?"

 

"I'm not afraid," Craig groaned. Of all people to be having this talk with, it had to be his annoying little sister, with strange ideas completely outside of reality. The fact that he and Tweek were good friends, maybe closer friends than most people had, didn't have to mean they liked each other. Because they didn't. "I'm just totally straight. I like chicks."

 

"Whatever," Tricia said. "When you want to admit it, you can come talk to me. I'm always willing to listen."

 

"Why was mom so pissed at you earlier?" Craig asked, desperate to change the subject. Tricia scowled.

 

"I've got a D in history. I hate history. Mom saw it online. She's not thrilled. I don't think dad really cares, though." Craig smiled. Trish had always been a daddy's girl. She could do nothing wrong in his eyes, and she got away with murder. It would be sweet, if Craig got the same treatment, but his mom had always been his favorite. 

 

"That sucks. Do you want help?" 

 

She sighed. "I mean it's freshman history. I don't really need help. I just need to, you know, actually do the homework and pay attention in class."

 

"You should do that. Save the slacking for junior year."

 

"Okay. Well good luck with your Tweek stuff. And I'm seriously, let me know when you figure it out."

 

He groaned and flipped her off again. "Fuck you, Trish."

 

"Love you too, big brother," she said, both her middle fingers in the air as she danced out of the room, softly shutting the door behind her. Craig groaned again, then fell backwards onto his bed. He shut his eyes, trying to shut out his crazy sister's ideas about Tweek, but he could hear her words in his head over and over. If Tricia thought there was something going on between them, would anyone else? What if- not that it mattered. He wanted to be Tweek's friend anyway, and who cared what people thought. But deep down, with his eyes squeezed shut, he could admit to himself that he cared a little. Mostly because it would give chicks the wrong idea. And he was totally into chicks. He drifted into a restless sleep, full of his sister chasing him through dreams, yelling, "Yoooou liiiike Tweeeeeek."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty long, and there is smut at the end!

He resolved not to say anything about the incident to Tweek. Things were just getting back to normal between them. There was absolutely no reason to go throwing in accusations of gay feelings or whatever and scaring him off again. He made it through school alright, and headed to sarcastaball practice on what used to be the football fields. Butters had taken over sot as captain, and Craig didn't miss it. Despite Tweek's best efforts, he didn't really get the game. Butters was actually fantastic at it. Cartman nodded to him as he approached, sharing a moment of understanding and hate for the game that had replaced football. Kenny sat on the bench with Butters, looking engrossed in their conversation. Craig grinned. That was what gay looked like. Not him. Not Tweek.

 

"Hey," someone said from behind him. He turned to find Clyde there, with his gentle smile, and sad eyes that hadn't recovered yet from his mother's fate. 

 

"Hey, Clyde. I saw you falling asleep in Garrison's class today. Did you get a nice nap?"

 

"Not bad," he said, yawning. "I was up all night last night. I keep having these weird dreams, where aliens are kidnapping me and I have to sit through the opera for them to let me go."

 

"Wonder what that means."

 

"Probably that I should avoid the opera. Which is just fine with me. Fuck the opera. Bebe made me go last month. It was stupid."

 

"Dude, that's why chicks suck. They always try to make you do things you're never going to like, just because they like them." Clyde gave him a searching look, then nodded.

 

"Yeah, Bebe's hot and all but I'm thinking about breaking it off with her. We just don't have that much in common."

 

"Oh," Craig said, not really sure what to say. "I thought you really liked her."

 

"I did. She's cool. She's just not like dating cool. She's been driving me crazy lately. 'Clyde, what colors should we have in our wedding?' 'Clyde, I think you should stop talking to your girl friends.' 'Clyde, can I read your texts?' Like, bitch, calm down. We've been together for less than a year."

 

Craig raised an eyebrow. "Damn. That's pretty fucking crazy."

 

"Right? I wish things were still how they were in the beginning." Butters blew his whistle.

 

"Alright, fellas, let's line up. I want to start with a scrimage today. We'll play shirts and skins."

 

"I'll be the other captain, Butters," Stan said, taking off his shirt to show off the body he'd been working on for the past few months. Craig rolled his eyes so far into his head he worried they might fall out. "And I'll choose first. I'll take Cartman."

 

Craig rolled his eyes again. The only reason Stan wanted Cartman on his team was so that he could look even better by comparison. Stan smoothed back his thick black hair, preening, looking around to see who he was impressing.

 

"Well, alright, then," Butters said, shuffling from one foot to another. "I-I'll take Kenny, I suppose."

 

"Woohoo!" Kenny said, muffled from his thick orange coat. He moved to stand beside Butters.

 

"Clyde," Stan said. Clyde exchanged a glance with Craig before moving to Stan's side. 

 

And so it went. Craig ended up on a team with Butters and Kenny, and some of the seniors he didn't know. Tweek was on Clyde's team, but he gave Craig a wave that sent a rush of warmth to Craig's heart. The game went quickly. Butters was good enough at the game to make up for the rest of his teammates' poor effort and ability, and Cartman called down too many penalties for Stan's team to even have a chance. Craig mostly stayed away from the balloon. He was afraid he'd get too annoyed with the other team, and flip someone off. That would cost them big points. Instead, he watched Butters and Kenny, who worked effectively as a team. Kenny's coat muffled any swearing he deemed necessary, and Craig wondered if he should buy a big coat so that he'd have an excuse to swear more during sarcastaball. By the end of the practice, Butters looked pleased, and complimented each of them individually. Craig was a little surprised. Butters didn't make a half-bad leader when he was excited about something.

 

"And just remember, everybody has a center of warm, gooey goodness. If you draw on that, well, you're sure to make your opponents happy." Kenny gave him a few claps, and the rest of the team hurried off, eager to be done with the game. Stan caught up with Craig, to his disgust.

 

"Hey, Craig, I noticed you weren't really trying out there." Craig flipped him off, hoping that would get him out of the conversation. "Flipping me off won't do any good. We need everyone to be at their best, and to really try, or we're going to get crushed by Denver. So you need to step up your game, okay?"

 

"Fuck you, dude, worry about yourself. Or Cartman. You two look pretty shitty." Stan frowned.

 

"Craig, why do you always have to be such an asshole, dude, I'm just trying to help." Craig scoffed and walked off.

 

"Nice effort today, fellers. You play like that on Friday and we're sure to win!" Craig kept walking. He wasn't sure where he was walking, but he knew for sure it would be somewhere sarcastaball couldn't follow. Before he knew it, he found himself at Stark's Pond. He sat on a bench, staring out at the water. Kenny sat beside him a few minutes later, actually announcing his presence before startling anyone.

 

"Mphm mph," he said in a muffled voice. He pulled the hood of his jacket down and repeated, more clearly, "Hey dude."

 

"Hey Kenny," Craig said. "What's up?"

 

"Just putting off going home. Karen's at a friends house tonight, so I don't really have a reason to go back. What are you doing out here?"

 

"Trying to forget sarcastaball."

 

Kenny grinned. "Not a fan?"

 

"I'd rather stick needles under my fingernails." 

 

Kenny gave him a serious look. "I have some with me if you want to try." Craig stared at him until he gave a disarming grin. "I have to tell you something. There's something up with Butters. He's been acting... off the last few days."

 

"Why should I care?"

 

"Because you're one of the few people who does care. Beneath pretending not to."

 

"That's not true. I just literally do not care." Kenny gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes. 

 

"Let me know if you see anything unusual. Butters has been an asshole to like four people he's ran into today."

 

"Even you?"

 

"No, not to me."

 

"I wonder why that is," he said, wondering if Kenny could sense the sarcasm in his voice.

 

"It doesn't matter. What matters is if the most mild mannered kid we know is suddenly being a dick, something's wrong. Will you just keep an eye out for me?"

 

Craig sighed. "Fine. But not for him. Just because I like you. When you're not stalking people."

 

"Thank you," Kenny said. He grinned. "So. It's good to know that someone else hates sarcastaball as much as I do. I have good news. Stan's dad is going to put a stop to it. Today."

 

Craig raised his hands in mock prayer. "Oh thank god."

 

"Yeah. This sport was really getting to me. The worst part is that Butters likes it, so I had to like it."

 

"Why did you have to like it?" Kenny stared at him like he was an idiot. "Are you into Butters?"

 

Kenny nodded. "Yes. Very much so."

Craig stared at him confused. He had just called Kenny gay. To his face. And he hadn't gotten mad, hadn't tried to beat him up. Instead, he had admitted it. Like it was nothing. He composed himself, not wanting Kenny to think he was homophobic or something. "Oh. Well that's cool."

 

"It is. And I think he has a thing for me too. I know he's at least a little bicurious. I'm just biding my time, before I jump in and sweep him off his feet.Then that sweet little ass will all be mine."

 

Craig grinned. "You're so romantic."

 

"I try." Kenny looked at his watch and sighed. "I should go. I don't think my parents will notice if I'm home or not, but I need to sleep. I'll be up all night again."

 

"Should I expect a midnight visit at my window?"

 

"No," Kenny said, hard glint in his eye. "I'll save you for emergencies. Wouldn't want to wear out my welcome."

 

Craig flipped him off, watching him retreat. He stood, kicking a rock in front of his foot. He didn't want to go home either. He wasn't sure why. His family wasn't that bad. Hell his sister was actually pretty cool. But all he wanted to do was to walk around the lake, so he did, kicking rocks and keeping an eye out for aliens, just in case there was something to the fact that several people about town had had similar dreams about a specific kind of alien. A half mile and zero aliens later, Craig gave up and walked home. 

 

A few weeks later, Butters and Kenny set of for Hawaii. Kenny turned at the airport, giving Craig two thumbs up behind Butters' back. Craig shook his head, but grinned a little, wishing Kenny luck, even if he was an idiot sometimes. Hormones. Hormones were fucking up all of his friends. Craig was lucky he hadn't found a girl yet. He didn't have to worry about doing anything stupid just for love. Unfortunately, Kenny left Craig a lone superhuman when South Park needed Mysterion most. Craig went to Tweek's house, and decided to spend the night after they spent the evening working on a project. They hadn't played the fighting game in weeks, not since they had kissed, but the slept in the same bed, like they were far younger than they were, legs touching, though neither acknowledged it.

 

"I can't believe you were right about Kenny," Tweek said. "He-AH! Seems so normal."

 

"Yeah, dude. I almost didn't believe it either. Maybe they're both curious."

 

"Is that different than being gay?"

 

"Yeah," Craig said. "Because then you can still meet a girl later and date her. If you just are curious with a guy, and don't kiss or anything, you're still straight." He wasn't sure if he believed in the words coming out of his mouth, but his heart beat faster. And he was suddenly very, very aware of Tweak laying beside him.

 

"I-I AH! I guess you're right. Maybe it isn't gay." They lay in silence for a moment. Then Tweek scooched closer to him, until their arms were pressed together and Tweeks legs were on top of his. Craig felt himself growing warm. 

 

"Have you... Ever been curious?" he asked, heart thumping loudly against his chest. He didn't want to hear Tweek's response, he wanted to take the question back. He could say he was just kidding, they could move on and things could stay normal. But then Tweek spoke.

 

"NNnnnnnngggggg GAH!!!!!!!! YES I HAVE BEEN CURIOUS!" There were footsteps down the hallway, then a knock on the door. 

 

"Everything okay in there, boys?" the voice of Mrs. Tweak asked.

 

"AHHH! THEY'RE GUNNA KILL US!" Tweek said, wildly looking from side to side.

 

"Alright, boys, well let me know if you need some more coffee."

 

"AH! No more coffee! I HATE THIS!"

 

"I love you, Tweek. Sweet dreams."

 

"Ngggg Night, mom," Tweek said. He looked so frazzled, probably from Craig's question. He lay huddled against Craig. Craig hesitantly, slowly, lifted his arm. He lay it across Tweek's back, slowly, gingerly. When Tweek didn't twitch, didn't try to move away, he settled it down, letting it rest across his friend's t-shirt. They hadn't been this close for weeks, and though Craig hadn't noticed that he had missed it, he felt more complete, and a sense of pure relief filled him. This was how it was supposed to be. His friend close to him, admitting things that Craig didn't think he could admit yet.

 

"I have been too," Craig said, feeling Tweek move into him, even closer, and his arm around the smaller boy tightened. "Everyone has been, I bet. That isn't weird."

 

"Craig? Why did you kiss me before?" Tweek asked. Craig felt his heart drop. He had asked himself that question over and over, and he didn't know the answer. He lied, feeling a little guilty.

 

"Because you wouldn't shut up about how nervous you were to kiss someone. And I knew it would come naturally to you." He felt Tweek grinning against him.

 

"You're- AH! you're a good friend, Craig. Thank you."

 

Craig nodded, holding Tweek against him. "But kissing is definitely gay," he said. "We probably shouldn't do that."

 

"Definitely," Tweek said, nodding furiously against Craig's chest. "But-AH! If you wanted we could do other things. Just the curious things."

 

There was a hopeful note in Tweek's voice, one that sent a shock through Craig's system, and he felt his hands moving down Tweek's chest, feeling the thin stretch of muscle, barely covering his ribs. Tweek shuddered under his touch, and Craig flipped him onto his back, pulling his shirt up and off of his thin frame. He threw it to the floor, taking off his own shirt. His hands found Tweek's chest again, gently massaging it as they explored, moving slowly downwards. When they reached Tweek's stomach he let out an "AH!" and twitched so violently that Craig paused for a moment, making sure that Tweek was alright. "GAH! I'm fine."

 

Craig gripped his hips, causing Tweek to twitch again. This time he just grinned, he didn't stop. His hands gently brushed across Tweek's stomach again, and he shuddered, arching his back into the contact. Craig's hands slipped under the waist of Tweek's pajama bottoms, rubbing across the fine soft hair that grew just below the waistband. Tweek sat up a little, pulling at Craig's neck. He lost his balance, and fell face first against Tweek, letting out a surprised laugh before clamping a hand over his mouth. They lay still for a moment, both staring at the door like deer in the headlights. When no one came, Craig propped himself up again, keeping his head over one of Tweek's shoulders, breath against his neck. He kept one hand on the bed, to balance himself, but let the other slip down again, back under Tweek's pajamas. He moved his hand downward as slowly as he could let himself move, savoring each of Tweek's twitches and little moans of anticipation. Finally, he reached his destination. Tweek's nails dug into his back as his hand found Tweek's cock, hard and waiting for him.

 

Craig caressed it, feeling just how rock hard it was. "Fuck," he muttered against Tweek's neck. Tweek jumped again, and his nails grew sharper. He gave it a few experimental jerks up and down. Tweek's trembling got more noticeable; he was quivering like a leaf against Craig. Craig pumped him again, feeling how hard his own cock was, pressed up against his stomach. He ignored it, focused on Tweek. It was fascinating, how different Tweek's dick felt in his hand compared to his own. It was smaller, but that wasn't enough. He'd felt it before, but never with this much intent. The veins were in different places, and Tweek's was smoother. His skin was softer. Craig loved the feeling of it, and he jerked him up and down, faster and faster, until Tweek was letting out tortured little gasps and thrusting into Craig's hand. He let go, and Tweek let out a sharp whine. Craig grinned a little, then pulled Tweek's pajamas off. He sat up, moving to Tweek's side so he could look at his cock.

 

Kneeling beside Tweek, he could see, just see in the dim line, the outline of Tweek's hard on, silhouetted against the wall. Tentatively, he moved his head a little closer. He glanced up at Tweek, to make sure he wasn't too freaked out. Craig didn't want to be weird, didn't want to make things so off again, but Tweek had a blissful grin on his face. He was still shaking. Craig stuck out his tongue and, channeling every porn star he'd watched, brought it down onto the head of Tweek's penis. Tweek grabbed his hair and pushed down; Craig let out a surprised yelp, but opened his mouth, somehow more turned on. He let Tweek push himself further into his mouth, and licked around his shaft, occasionally flicking his tongue over the head, making Tweek shiver. Craig liked the taste of him, the salt of his sweat mixed with something else, something almost sour, but intoxicating. He let out a gasp around Tweek's cock, pushing his head all the way down, until he felt the tip of Tweek's cock at the top of his throat. Tweek wasn't long enough to gag him, so he moved his head up and down, tightening his lips. 

 

His hand wrapped back around Tweek's cock, and he moved his hand up and down in time with his mouth. Tweek's hands were tangled in his hair, and he was gasping, making the sound he made when he was about to cum. Craig sped up, and tightened his grip, just a little. Tweek let out an "nnnnnngg ah!" Craig felt something warm in his mouth, salty, and he swallowed on instinct, to make sure he wouldn't choke. Tweek's hands let go of him, and he moved back to lay beside his friend. He felt a strange satisfaction with himself, compounded with his dick, which was now achingly hard, tenting his pajama pants. Tweek nuzzled against his chest, and Craig put an arm around him. 

 

"You've never done that before?" Tweek asked, the awe obvious in his voice.

 

"Nope," Craig said, satisfaction growing in his chest. If there was anything to be naturally good at, sex was one he'd choose. Tweek sat up, unceremoniously yanking Craig's pajama pants to his ankles. Craig grinned, leaning against the pillows to watch Tweek in the dim light. Tweek's hand was steady on Craig's dick, and he supressed a moan as it made contact, brushing him from base to head before cupping around the head of his cock. Tweek's touch was electric; he'd never felt anything comparable. He wasn't sure what it was, but they had a crazy connection, maybe because they had been such good friends even before starting to officially experiment. Craig felt something warm and wet wrap around him a moment later, and this time he couldn't help himself. He let out a low moan. Tweek kept going. It was clumsy at first. Craig felt the hard clash of teeth against him at least once, but Tweek gained confidence, and his mouth opened wider. Soon he was taking half of Criag's cock into his mouth, choking a little when he reached his limit. Tweek's hand wrapped around his base, stroking him while his mouth worked on his head. Craig closed his eyes, immersed in pleasure. He had never been inside something so warm and wet before. He put a hand on Tweek's head, and pushed him down a little. He let go quickly, when Tweek gagged.

 

Something about the gag got him going, though, and he thrust into Tweek's mouth, half hoping to hear the same noise again. He was rewarded with another gag, sending a spurt of tingles through Craig. He leaned back, to let Tweek take him as far as he was comfortable, and gasped as Tweek's rough wet tongue ran across the head of his cock. He felt himself growing close. "I-I'm going to cum if you keep going," he warned. Tweek sped up, and Craig couldn't hold himself back. He threw his head back and came, letting out an unintentionally loud groan as he did. Tweek started to pull back, but Craig held his head there, letting him suck up every drop of cum up. Then he pulled him up beside him. Tweek pulled away, looking terrified, and Craig was hurt, wondering if he had done something wrong, if he had hurt Tweek somehow. Tweek pulled the blanket over them both as a knock rattled from the door. Craig's mouth fell open, and he tried to compose himself, still high from orgasm. The door opened to reveal Craig's dad. He gave the two boys a glance, like he knew they had been doing something wrong, he just didn't know what it was. 

 

"Everything okay in here, boys? Mom thought she heard fighting."

 

"NNnnng everything's fine, dad."

 

"Okay. Do you need any more coffee to help you sleep, Tweek?" 

 

Tweek twitched, hiking the blanket to his chin to make sure no part of their bare chests was exposed. "No, I'm okay dad. Thanks."

 

"Alright," Mr. Tweak said, giving them a questioning smile. "Well you boys get to bed soon, alright? It's a school night."

 

"We're trying," Tweek said through his teeth, giving his father a pointed glare.

 

"Goodnight. Sleep well." He shut the door, and Craig let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He caught Tweek's eye, the only parts of his friend he could clearly make out, and let out a nervous laugh. He had laughed a lot tonight. That was Tweek too. They had crossed another line, and Craig knew it. If things kept going like this, there would be no denying it, no questioning himself anymore. There might be something between him and Tweek, something more than just two teenaged boys experimenting. They just- they clicked. Craig had never really clicked with anyone before, at least not in the same way. They just fit with each other like puzzle pieces. But that didn't mean they had to be anything other than friends. Clearly some wires in his head had gotten confused along the way, mistaking friendship for something else. Craig wanted to see what happened, nonetheless.

 

Tweek let out a hysteric giggle, then threw himself down against Craig's chest to muffle the sounds. Craig felt the vibrations of his laughs in his rib cage, a curiously tickling feeling. They both giggled, trying as hard as they could to be quiet. Then Craig wrapped his arms around Tweek's naked form, pulling him close. Tweek lay his head back against Craig's chest, and Craig ran his fingers through Tweek's unruly blond hair. Craig closed his eyes, smiling lazily. 

 

"So," he said after a while. "As long as we don't kiss it's cool with me. What's cool with you?" 

 

"AH! Nothing- you know. Nothing-" he lowered his voice, and Craig strained to hear. "Nothing in butts."

 

Craig laughed. He hadn't even thought about that. He wasn't interested in the whole butt thing. It seemed unquestionably gay, so he didn't even let himself thing about it. "Okay. Nothing in or out of butts. I promise." Tweek relaxed, and Craig could feel his smile. "But everything else?" Tweak nodded, and they both drifted off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

When they woke in the morning, still naked and entangled, Craig worried that it would be awkward, and that Tweek would be so ashamed of Craig he'd never let anything happen again, but things were natural. Somehow, they were perfect. Tweek's cheek was on his chest, and there was a little stream of drool Tweek wiped away as soon as he noticed, giving a violent shake that let Craig know not to mention it. His hand automatically found Tweek's hair again, and he untangled it with his fingers as gently as he could. It was fine and thick, and the job took a while, but Tweek lay quietly, letting him play with it. Craig spoke first. 

"So that was fun."

"Yeah. Until my dad almost caught us." Craig grinned. Not getting caught had made the night perfect. He couldn't imagine trying to explain what had happened to his parents. Now he wouldn't have to. 

"We got really lucky." He looked down at Tweek, a wave of fondness, or maybe something a little different than fondness, hitting him. "Do you think our parents would get suspicious if we spent the night together more?"

"GAH! I DON'T KNOW! I don't want anyone to get suspicious." Craig frowned.

"Yeah you're right. Sorry. We'll be careful." They sat for a while, peaceful. "What do you think Kenny and Butters are doing right now?"

"Maybe the same thing we are. And if they're not, I bet Kenny wishes they were." 

"Oh Kenny doesn't care if butt stuff is gay," Craig said, grinning. "He'd be all up in that no no place if Butters let him anywhere near it." He looked at the clock and groaned. He kicked himself for groaning. Usually he was so stoic, so good at hiding his emotions, but last night had broken him in a way he wasn't used to, and now they were spilling out left and right. He sucked them back in with a breath of fresh air. "We need to get up."

Tweek's eyes grew huge, pleading, but Craig stood his ground. "Come on, dude, what if one of your parents comes to wake us up? We need to get up."

Tweek sighed, and pulled away from Craig. The morning air was cold without Tweek there to share heat with. He frowned and pulled himself off the bed. He set about at the most difficult task of the day; finding his clothes. When he had found them, he pulled them on, watching Tweek doing the same, his small, compact ass disappearing behind a pair of jeans that were too big for him. Too soon, they were messing with their backpacks and pulling on their hats, going downstairs for breakfast where Mrs. Tweak waited for them. 

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said, pulling Tweek into a hug. He pulled away, red faced, clearly not comfortable hugging his mother in front of Craig. "And good morning Craig. Did you sleep okay? It sounded like one of you was having nightmares."

 

"I slept fine, thanks," Craig said. She ushered them to the table, where two plates with heaping piles of pancakes, smothered with syrup, waited for them. Craig dug into his, hungrily. A steaming mug of coffee sat in front of him, but he ignored it. He probably hated it as much as Tweek loved it. It was so acidic, seeming to burn his throat on its way to his stomach, with that strange burnt after taste. Tweek's mug was already empty, so Craig switched them, hoping Mrs. Tweak would be impressed he finished it. A moment later, he wondered why the hell he would want her to be impressed.

"Do you want more pancakes, dear?" she asked.

"Uh, no, Mrs. Tweak. I'm full. Thank you." She smiled and cleared away his dishes.

"Is your project presentation today?" she asked.

"Yeah, for history," Tweek said. His hands were trembling again, coffee rushing through his veins. "Gah! We need to go. I don't want to be-nnnng late."

"Okay, darling," she said. "Make sure to get your coat. It's cold out today."

"Okay!" Tweek leaped from his seat and scurried to his closet. Craig slipped on his own coat, zipping it to his throat. He slung his backpack over his shoulders and followed. "AH! WHAT IF SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING?"

"She doesn't know anything," Craig said, placing a hand on his arm. "She'd say something if she did. We'd both be in trouble."

"Nnnng I hope not." Tweek twitched all the way to school. Craig had a feeling it would only be worse when he wasn't there to reassure him. He sighed, and went off to class nonetheless. Kenny and Butters were noticeably absent. Craig wondered how long Butters' ceremony had to last, and if Kenny would stay the whole time. By the time Craig got to lunch, the only spots left were next to Cartman or Brovlovski. He picked Cartman, catching Tweek's eye and giving him a quick smile.

"Hey buttmunch," Cartman said. 

"Hey, fat ass. What's new?"

"Oh nothing too much. Just talking about whether Jews can be superheroes or not. See, I feel like it's appropriating white male culture for Kyle to go as Thor for Halloween." Kyle glared at Cartman.

"Cartman, you're a dumb ass. If you can dress up as the Hulk, a fit, attractive male, then I can dress up as Thor."

"Well, see, but that's different, though. Because I'm super big and ripped like Thor, so it's okay. You look nothing like Thor, Kahl. You might as well wear black face and dress up as Black Panther."

"Not the same," Token interjected.

"It's basically the same, Token. So Kahl. I was thinking you could be Black Widow instead. It's perfect." He held up a hand at Kyle's outraged face, and Kyle shut his mouth, looking reluctant. "You've already got the right hair. And she's all twinky and tiny like you are. I have a black jumpsuit you can borrow. We got it for Mr. Kitty but it was too big."

Kyle closed his eyes, eyebrows pressed together. "No."

"Oh come on, Kahl, we need a Black Widow. How can we be the Avengers with no Black Widow? Here, I'll tell you what. Craig, do you want to be Thor?"

"I already have my costume," he lied.

"Oh God dammit," Cartman muttered. "Well then, we can find somebody else to be Thor and you can be Black Widow. Then we'll have all of them."

"I'm not going to be a fucking chick, Cartman. I'm being Thor."

"Then you can plan on putting on about fifty pounds of muscle before Halloween, Kahl, or you can't come with us to Bebe's party."

"I don't want to go to Bebe-"

"EH! Respect mah authoritah." Kyle rolled his eyes.

"What are you going as?" he asked Craig.

"Deadpool," he lied. Deadpool would be pretty sweet, though. He'd have to find a good costume before they were all sold out.

"Oh sick, dude. You'll fit right in with the rest of us, then." Craig nodded, wondering if he should care. He didn't know Kyle very well. In his head, he always associated him with Stan, hating him by association on principle. But when Stan wasn't around, Kyle didn't seem terrible. At least not completely terrible.

"What are you going to be, Tweek? A vibrator?" Cartman snickered at his own joke. "Get it, gahs, cus he shakes all the time?"

"Fuck off, fatass," Craig said automatically. Tweek's face was doing the twitchy, almost smile thing, though, like he enjoyed the joke.

"AH! I don't know. Picking out costumes is so much nnng pressure. I've been putting it off."

"You should go as a superhero too! We could all do it. And then go to the party together. It would be fun!"

"I'm going to be Hawkeye," Token said. Cartman snorted, but wilted as five sets of angry eyes turned to glare at him.

"And I'm going as the flash," Clyde said, leaning across the table. "You should totally be a superhero, Tweek! A Marvel one. No offense, Craig." Craig stuck his middle finger at him, not offended.

"Gah! Okay, maybe." Tweek shivered, not used to that much individual attention. Craig changed the subject, letting Cartman and Kyle get into another argument. Those two were easy to rile up. For some reason, Kyle was easily rattled by Cartman. He could be pretty stoic when anyone else tried to get under his skin, but Cartman just rubbed him the wrong way. Craig frowned, wondering why the two of them were even friends. The argument quickly devolved into name calling, and Craig stood with his tray, following Clyde and Token out of the lunch room and into the hallway.

"Cartman's an idiot," Token said, hint of a grin on his face. "One of these days, Kyle's going to get sick of being called a dirty Jew and go all Old Testament on him."

"I don't think there's any way Kyle would win that fight," Clyde said.

"Want to bet on it?" Craig asked. Tweek shook his head frantically, but Clyde and Token looked thoughtful. "I'm not saying we make it happen. Because we're not Stan Marsh, and we're not dicks. But lets say it does happen. I'd put fifty on Kyle."

"You're on," Clyde said."

"I say both of them give up before there's a clear winner," Token said. "Because they're both kind of pussies."

"Okay," Craig said. "Tweek, you want in?"

"No way, man. I don't think they'll fight at all."

"Then if they don't fight by the end of the month, Tweek wins. Throw in fifty, buddy," Token said. They all threw in their fifty bucks, Tweek shaky and reluctantly.

"What are you gahs doing?" Cartman asked, hands on his hips. 

"Just talking," Clyde said. "Is that a crime now?"

"Not yet, but watch out for the Jew hippy liberals who want it to be." He turned back to the cafeteria. "Hurry up, Kahl, we're gunna be late!"

"I'm coming, fat ass, hold your tits." The two walked down the hallway together, with Craig and his gang staring after them in confusion. Craig shrugged and hefted his backpack onto his shoulders. He wasn't in any position to judge people for their weird friendships. Certainly not after last night. 

"Ready to present?" he asked Tweek.

"AH! NO! SO MUCH PRESSURE!" Craig managed to get him to history, complete with their project. He did the presentation, letting Tweek thumb through the slides and occasionally add an "AH!" When it was over, he had to lead Tweek by the elbow back to his chair. 

"Good job, dude," he lied.

"AH! I DID NONE OF IT!" Tweek shouted. Mrs. Jones gave them a look, and Tweek clasped his hands over his mouth.

"You made the presentation," Craig said under his breath. "And hey, now it's over."

Tweek twitched in agreement, shakily collecting his papers and shoving them into his backpack. "AH! What are you doing after school?"

"I have to go to my sister's cross country meet." Tweek's face fell. "You could come. If you want. Trish likes you. I bet she'd be happy to see you there."

"Are you sure I wouldn't be- nnng intruding?"

"No, it's fine. I'm not sitting with my parents anyways. I don't mind company." Inwardly he cursed himself. He didn't mind company? That made it seem like inviting Tweek was a pity invite. Tweek nodded, though, looking thoughtful. He twitched once, but that was all.

"Alright. I don't have anything better to do."

 

They exchanged a grin, then parted ways for different classes. All through precalculus, Craig thought about Tweek. He couldn't stop imagining Tweek's soft blond hair in his hands, the sounds he made when Craig was blowing him. He found himself growing embarrassingly hard, and prayed to every god he didn't believe in that his teacher wouldn't make him write anything on the board. For the first time, maybe because Tweek had brought it up, he found himself wondering about Tweek's butt. He'd never really thought about butt stuff before. The idea seemed kind of gross, and he had never been interested in it. But Tweek's ass was so firm, so well shaped. Craig felt like he couldn't help himself, he wanted to know what it felt like in his hands. And he had the strangest fantasy of sticking a finger inside him. If anything would make Tweek twitch a foot in the air, it would be that. At the end of class, he escaped to the bathroom. 

Shamefully, for the first time, Craig got himself off at school. He couldn't help it. He thought if he had to sit through one more hour of class with a boner, he'd go literally insane. So he jerked himself off, trying to stay quiet as boys around him came in and did their business. In his fantasy, he was with Tweek, back in Tweek's room, with Tweek on his back. Craig pushed a finger inside his tight little hole, feeling the squeeze of it, the heat that seemed to radiate from Tweek whenever they were close together. He closed his eyes and bit his tongue to stop a moan as he came, shuddering, in the stall. He cleaned up, embarrassed. He was lucky not to have been caught. The last thing he needed was a reputation as the school bathroom jerker. He pulled up his pants and washed his hands, staring down at his feet for the entire walk to his next class.


	13. Chapter 13

After class, he headed out to the track, where the stands were filling with students and parents waiting to see their friends and family compete. Craig looked for his parents in the bleachers, spotting a blur of red and yellow. He waved to them, and his dad flipped him off with a grin. Craig returned the gesture and glanced around, trying to find Tweek amid the crowd. Jimmy caught his eye and waved him over with a crutch. Unable to find Tweek, he made his way to Jimmy's bench.

 

"He-hey Craig," Jimmy said.

 

"Hey Jimmy. What are you doing here?"

 

"As the ed-ed-ed-editor of the school paper, it's my job to w-w-watch some of the events at the school and report on them in a fa-faaah-fantastic manner. What are you doing here?"

 

"My sister runs cross country," he explained. "I guess they don't usually run on a track. I don't go to many meets."

 

"Usually cross country races are done on t-trails. But with Stark's Pond flooded, they had to use the trah- they had to use the traaah- they had to use the outdoor track."

 

"Cool," he said, still scanning the crowd. He caught sight of Stan with the other athletes, warming up, and frowned. Stan did every sport he could. He was such a try-hard. At least Clyde picked football and stuck with it. He was way more athletic than Marsh, he just gave everyone else a chance at the other sports. Stan caught his eye and gave him a hard look. Craig stared him down until he looked away.

 

"Hey guys," a squeaky voice from behind them called. Craig grinned and patted the spot next to him.

 

"Hey Tweek."

 

"Hey Jimmy. You- AH! You covering the meet?"

 

"Yeah," Jimmy said. "We have some great athletes competing today. I wanted to be here to see-ah, to see it in person."

 

Tricia walked around the track with a few other girls, giving Craig a broad grin and a thumbs up. He felt himself blush, and flipped her off. Tweek looked at him.

 

"What was that about?"

 

"She's just stupid," he said, rolling his eyes. "She thinks that every pair of guys that are friends should be dating each other."

 

"I hate guh-guh-I hate girls like that," Jimmy said. "Why can't guys have platonic friendships too?"

 

He caught Tweek's eye. Whatever the hell was up with them lately didn't fall under platonic. He nodded at Jimmy anyways. "I hope it's just a phase. She's usually pretty cool."

 

"Cool," Jimmy said, leaning forward on his crutches to pull himself to his feet. "Well I'm going to go int-int-int- I'm going to go talk with some of the stars before the meet starts. I'll catch up with you guys later."

 

"Bye," Tweek said. They watched him walk away. "So... Tricia thinks we're together?"

 

"No," he said. "She just thinks we'd be cute together. Just ignore her if she says anything. Or talk about how D's don't get degrees. That should shut her right up."

 

"Okay," Tweek said, not looking particularly bothered. An airplane flew over the field, and Tweek shrieked. "AH! THAT PLANE'S FLYING WAY TOO LOW! IT'S GUNNA CRASH AND KILL US!"

 

Craig put a hand on his arm. "No it's not."

 

"CRAIG IT COULD BE FROM CHINA! WHAT IF THE CHINESE WANT TO KILL US?"

 

"Why would the Chinese want to kill us?"

 

"I DON'T KNOW, DUDE!" Craig sighed.

 

"Alright, come on."

 

"Where are we going?" Craig got both of them to their feet and pulled Tweek from the bleachers. 

 

"To get you calmed down. C'mon." Craig led his friend out of the stands, then through a teenage-boy sized gap in the metal supports of the bleachers.

 

"What if they fall on us?" Tweek asked.

 

"They won't. Trust me, okay?" Tweek hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Craig led him through the metal pathways until they were out of sight from the crowd. He sat in the dirt, and pulled Tweek with him. The sounds of the crowd were muffled; still loud, but jumbled through layers of human and metal enough that voices couldn't be distinguished. "Isn't it nice down here? It's calm."

 

Tweek glanced around in the dim light. "Yeah, it's-ngggg- it's okay. How'd you find it?"

 

"My dad coached the football team when I was a kid," he explained. "I had to come to the games. But I hated it. So I'd come down here and pretend I was somewhere else."

 

Tweek sat cross legged and closed his eyes, rocking back and forth, occasionally letting out little nervous sounds. "GAH! I see why you liked it."

 

"Feeling better?"

 

"A little," he admitted. His eyes were still closed. "Craig?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Is it-uh, is it gay- that is, would it be okay if we-AH! If you held me? Just until I feel a little better." Craig didn't answer. He put an arm around Tweek and pulled him close. Tweek's head rested against his chest, and his arms wrapped around Craig's waist. He tilted his head down, to rest on Tweek's fluffy hair. Tweek's trembling gradually slowed, until he lay calm in Craig's arms. Craig smiled down at him, fondness bursting from his heart. Maybe he had needed someone to protect. Maybe that's why he liked Tweek so much. He pressed his lips to the top of Tweek's hair. 

 

"It doesn't have to be gay," he said. "I think it's a friend thing too."

 

"Would you-AH! AH!" Tweek shook his head from side to side, the way he did when he was really freaked out. Craig frowned, holding him tighter. "Would you still do it? Even if it was gay? If I was-nngg freaking out and it would help?"

 

Craig froze. He wasn't sure what answer Tweek wanted. Tweek, after all, had said several times that he wasn't gay. Maybe he wanted to hear that Craig wouldn't dream of it. But Craig had to admit, as much as both of them denied it, things had been feeling-different between them. And it wasn't the sexual things, he could explain those away to himself, but falling asleep with Tweek's head on his chest, skin against skin, waking up and untangling his hair, that was something new. There was something beyond fondness when it came to Tweak. It didn't have to mean that he was gay, but he thought about Tweek too much to be entirely straight. So he told the truth. 

 

"With anyone else I wouldn't," he said slowly. "But with you- I'd still do it. I-" He stopped. There had been something on the tip of his tongue then, something that scared the shit out of him, that he couldn't even admit to himself yet. Tweek twitched against him. Craig tightened his grip again, then realized he was probably hurting him.

 

"Then-then- GAH! Is it okay if I kiss you?" Craig nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Tweek pulled out of his embrace, and tilted his head up. He leaned towards Craig, who met him part way, pushing their lips together. This time there was no clumsiness, no fumbling. They fit together perfectly. Craig's hand found its way to Tweek's hair as it always seemed to, and he pulled Tweek's face even closer to his. Their noses rubbed against one another, and Craig smiled, unintentionally breaking the kiss. "What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing," Craig quickly reassured him. "It's just weird. How right this feels." He stared up at the bleachers above them. "Are you okay with all this?"

 

"Yes," Tweek said, nodding emphatically. Craig sighed.

 

"And are you okay- you know, with not putting any labels on it? Yet? I'm- confused." He met Tweek's eyes, noticing how shockingly blue they were. That only made him more confused.

 

"Yeah, dude. I mean, I'm confused too." Craig nodded, stroking Tweek's hair absentmindedly, thinking how lucky he was that Tweek didn't want to rush into anything crazy. He kissed him again, and this time there was a sort of hunger to it. He didn't want to stop. Tweek kissed him back, their tongues rubbing against each other, and the smaller boy moaned under him. Craig smiled inwardly. They were going to mess around outside during a school sporting event. Tweek, the most anxious kid he'd ever known, was going to mess around with him during a school sporting event. He broke away, pulling Tweek's shirt off. Tweek's hands slipped under his own shirt, and he gasped at how cold they were. 

 

"Jesus, did you stick those in a freezer?" he asked. Tweek only smiled, using Craig as a living heater for a minute before pulling his shirt all the way off. They stared at one another. Craig's eyes traced the muscles on Tweek's chest, clearly visible on his thin frame. A trail of fine white hair ran from his chest to his stomach, glimmering in the dim light. When he looked back at Tweek's face, he was looking at Craig anxiously, as though waiting for his verdict. "You're the most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," Craig whispered, and Tweek flew at him, pushing him onto the ground and latching his lips firmly onto Craig's. Craig, not breaking the embrace, pushed him over. He wasn't sure why but he wanted to be on top. He liked how Tweek looked underneath him, with his eyes as wide as they used to get when they would fight together. He fumbled with the waistband of Tweek's jeans, trying to pull them off, but a twig snapped behind him, and he jumped off Tweek as quickly as he could.

 

"Um. Hey," Kyle Brovlovski said, staring at them awkwardly.

 

"GAH! SHIT! THIS ISN'T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE," Tweek said, panicking. Craig handed Tweek's shirt to him and pulled on his own. He put a hand on Tweek's back, trying to steady the shaking.

 

"Hey Kyle," he said, voice surprising him with how calm it was. "What are you doing down here?"

 

"I came here to watch Stan's meet," he said, shuffling. "He was really excited about it. But Ike and my mom came with me, and they're being dicks. So I came down here to get away from it. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spy on you guys."

 

"It's cool," Craig said, rubbing Tweek's back. He wanted to flip Kyle off, to run at him and beat him up so he couldn't blab, but instead he closed his eyes and composed himself. Kyle wasn't that bad. He wasn't Stan. He wasn't Cartman. It could have been worse. "Um so we're not really ready for anyone to know about this yet. Could you... not tell anyone?"

 

Kyle nodded furiously. "Yeah, dude, of course. It's nobody's business."

 

"You won't tell Stan? Or Cartman?" Kyle snorted.

 

"Dude, I don't even tell them my own secrets most of the time. They tell everyone everything. I promise I won't." He hesitated for a moment. "I, um. I'll tell you one of mine if you want. To make you feel better."

 

Craig shrugged. "You don't have to."

 

"No, I want to. I want to tell someone. And this is perfect, because you can't tell anyone." Craig shrugged again, and Tweek let out a sound that could have been terror or affirmation. "I-I think I'm bisexual."

 

Craig stared at him. Was fucking everyone at this school gay now? "Oh."

 

"GAH! Good for you, Kyle," Tweek said, shooting Craig a glare that he didn't fully understand.

 

"Thanks," Kyle said, smile dawning on his face. "Wow, it feels good to say it. I'm a bisexual. Thanks, you guys."

 

"Sure," Craig said. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Thank you for not being a dick about..." He gestured wildly at the ground.

 

"Yeah. Wow!" Kyle walked off, still looking star struck. Craig sighed and pulled Tweek to his feet. The mood had been efficientlly murdered.

 

"You okay?" he asked. Tweek nodded.

 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just surprised."

 

"Cool," Craig said, relieved. He was surprised at how little he cared that Kyle knew. He supposed he trusted the ginger's self interest. "Well should we go watch the meet?"

 

Tweek agreed. Craig took his hand, squeezing it tightly, and held it up until the Craig-sized hole in the bleachers. They gave each other a last long look and let go of each other's hands, walking separately through the gap. They sat through the end of the meet, trying not to sit too close to each other, each burning with, at least to Craig, obvious sexual tension. He was just glad he no longer had a boner when Trish came to hug him at the end of the meet.

 

"I saw you two sneak off," she whispered in his ear. "Did you finally get some?"

 

Craig gave her an impassive look. "Maybe you would run faster if you spent more time watching the track and less time stalking your older brother."

 

She flipped him off, pulling Tweek in for a hug before sprinting off to join her teammates.


	14. Chapter 14

Kenny showed up outside his window as usual once he was back from Hawaii. "Dude Stan is fucking pissed at you."

"Good," Craig said.

"You need to stop being an ass to him without a good reason."

"I had a good reason."

Mysterion glared at him. "What."

 

"He was being a dick to Tweek," Craig said and shrugged. 

 

"Why would you care if he- oh." Craig looked at him impassively. Kenny's face lit up. "Oh my god. Butters and I aren't the only gay couple in South Park anymore."

 

"Keep your voice down," Craig said, looking out at the dark streets from his bedroom window as though someone was listening to their roof-top conversation. "We're not exactly a couple. And we aren't telling anyone. Anyone. Okay?"

 

"You act like we're out to anyone. You should meet his parents. They're like the Spanish Inquisition in human form."

 

"Right," Craig said. "So you and Butters, huh? Hawaii?"

 

"Hawaii," Kenny said with a grin. "It's the most romantic place to seduce someone. Poor guy didn't have a chance. He'll have to love me forever now."

 

Craig shook his head. "You're the most corrupt super hero I know."

 

"Woah, hey. It's not my fault I'm extremely lovable and exceptional in bed." Craig raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I said exceptional in bed."

 

"Did you sleep with him? Already?"

 

"He practically jumped me," Kenny bragged. "Best night of my life."

 

"Wow." He was actually honestly impressed. "Like-" he leaned forward. "In the butt?"

 

"Yup," Mysterion said. "Did him in the butt. You should have heard it. He loved it so much."

 

"Gross, dude," he said, a little aroused at the thought. On second thought, he added, "How'd you get him to do it?"

 

"He let me finger him. And he liked it." Kenny shrugged. "It was all his idea from there." Craig filed that piece of information away for future reference.

 

"Damn, Kenny," he said. Kenny looked at him, with a smug expression.

 

"Yeah so what about you and Twitch?"

 

"Don't call him that. He hates that."

 

"Sorry."

 

"We haven't done any butt stuff. But everything else."

 

"Well- was it good?"

 

"Yep."

 

"No further details you'd like to share?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Good talk," Mysterion said. "See you tomorrow, dude. We should both get some rest."

 

Craig flipped him off and shut the window, watching Kenny do his acrobatic dance off the roof. He took Stripe out of his cage and let him run around the bed, squeaking rapidly. Craig was hoping that would make him chirp less. Stripe the Third was new, and a notoriously bad chirper. Craig hadn't figured out a solution to that yet. He watched the little guy scamper around, and grinned. Guinea pigs were wonderful. They were way better than humans. He was sad when he had to put him back in his cage for the night, so he didn't run away or get accidentally smooshed by a sleeping body in the middle of the night. He listened to Stripe's little squeaks until he fell asleep.

 

He woke to Tweek screaming in his ear. He groaned, trying to pull himself into full consciousness.

 

"Hey Tweek," he said, rubbing his eyes.

 

"Craig! It's the Asians! They're telling everyone we're gay!"

 

"But we're not gay," Craig said, trying to sound as sincere as he could.

 

"I KNOW!" Tweek yelled. Craig pulled himself up and sat on the edge of his bed. He pulled Tweak to sit down with him. 

 

"What happened?"

 

"I was talking to Wendy. AND THEY'RE GOING TO DO A SLIDE SHOW WITH US TOMORROW!"

 

"What do you mean with us?"

 

"They-AH! AH!" Craig grabbed Tweek's hand with both of his own, doing his best to stop the shaking. "They draw us. Together. CRAIG I DON'T WANT EVERYONE KNOWING."

 

"Deep breaths," Craig said, stoking his hand. "It's okay. No one knows that anything has been actually happening between us."

 

"GAH! But what do we do?" Craig pulled Tweek down to sit beside him, and put an arm around his shoulders. It felt so right, so natural calming Tweek. He found it strange but he didn't care if anyone called them gay anymore. He didn't care what anyone said.

 

"We go to school and act like nothing's happened." What else could they do? "Look, it doesn't matter, dude. It's okay."

 

""NO IT ISN'T!! WHAT IF MY PARENTS FIND OUT? I'M GOING TO GET IN-AH! AH! SO MUCH TROUBLE!" Tweek pulled away from Craig, for the first time Craig could remember. He sat on the bed, stunned.

 

"No matter what, we're going to get through this together," he said. "Right?"

 

Tweek wouldn't meet his eyes. "No, dude. I don't think we- AH! AH! will. You just wanted-Nnnngg the sex stuff, and you don't have to stick with me for anything AH! else. And nnngg- Craig, I can't handle this. I'm sorry." Tweek walked out. Craig watched him go. He felt like somebody had stabbed him. Tweek was the one who didn't worry about the gayness. But he'd reached a limit, and Craig realized it too late. He stared in the place Tweek had been, for minutes, then for hours. He was too numb too think, or even to consciously realize Tweek was gone. Gone for good this time. Without truly realizing that he was doing it, Craig stayed up all night, just staring. He barely could dress himself for school that morning, and felt like he was sleep walking the entire way to class, only to find there was an assembly. He sat next to Token, not saying a word. And then he watched as the Asian girls showed the pictures they'd drawn of him and Tweek.

 

He frowned, turning to Token. "Dude. What the fuck?" He could have cried. He didn't, because he wasn't a pussy, but he could have. Instead, he went down to the Asian girls to yell at them for ruining his life. He would have given them an earful, he wanted to, but Tweek was there. Tweek was there yelling about how he wasn't gay, how they couldn't just draw pictures of him, and he lost his nerve. He went to the principal's office where he was supposed to be, and listened to a lecture he didn't need, would never need with Tweek now, about consent. He refused to look at Tweek. And when it was over, Tweek walked out without looking at him. He stared after him again, fresh wounds ripped into his heart.

 

He didn't sleep that night either. He couldn't. He felt sick, and every time his eyes closed his saw Tweek in front of him, giving him a last glance before walking away, because he had waited too long to realize that he'd always wanted Tweek. Always. The next morning, he walked to school. He saw a huge spray painted picture on the side of the school, and glared at it. It was a picture of him with Tweek, and it was mocking him. He flipped it off, then he heard a soft "AH!" next to him. 

 

He and Tweek looked at each other for a moment. Tweek's eyes were sad, but they were determined. He walked away without a word. Craig thought all day about what to do. He would have given anything to have Tweek in his life again. But if he couldn't have that, he at least wanted Tweek to be happy. He made his way to his house after school, then went the other way. He knocked on the door and pushed past Tweek's parents to get to Tweek's room.

 

"Hey dude," he said lamely. Tweek screamed and waved his hands in the air. Craig hated himself. "Don't freak out."

 

"YOU CAN'T BE HERE! EVERYONE THINKS I'M AH! AHHH!! EVERYONE THINKS I'M GAY!"

 

"They think we're gay. Look, I think I have a way to fix this. If you could just trust me. Just one more time." Tweek looked skeptical, crossing his arms together.

 

"What do you want, Craig?"

 

"I want you to be happy. And ending this will make you happy, right?" Tweek looked uncertain. "We just have to come out and say we're gay, then break up."

 

"AH! NO! I CAN'T ACT! I'M A TERRIBLE ACTOR!"

 

"You can do it," he said, grimly certain. "You're capable of more than you think." He stepped forward for what was probably the last time and held Tweek's shoulders until the smaller boy stopped shaking.

 

"Nnnng okay. Okay, I'll do it, if that's what you want." 

 

It's not, Craig thought. But it's what you want.

 

The fake breakup was terrible. Tweek blamed everything on him, and Craig walked home, with the whole school hating him, and Tweek leaving him for good. He had never felt so low in his life. Never even close. He went home, collapsed on his bed, and finally let one tear, then one more, fall from his eyes. "Well that's enough emotion for one day," he muttered, drying his eyes. He made his way outside, avoiding his dad, who had been looking way too happy since he'd gotten home from school. Working on his bike calmed him, even on the worst of days. Even today. He fiddled with the gears, then lubed them up, trying to push soft blond hair from his mind.

 

"Craig," a voice said from behind him. His heart leaped, then fell past his toes to the center of the ground. Tweek never would have done the breakup the way he did if he wanted anything to do with Craig. He turned anyways. He always would when it came to Tweek. "I need to talk to you."

 

"I don't think we have anything else to say to each other," Craig said, turning back to his bike so he wouldn't cry. "You made your feelings pretty clear today."

 

"No- Craig, I didn't realize. I didn't think you wanted-AH! Look. I felt something today. It's the thing I feel whenever I'm around you. You- you bring something out in me, Craig, and you're right, alright, I'm capable of more than I think." Craig stared at his bike. Even if Tweek was having second thoughts, Craig knew. He knew deep down that he wasn't what Tweek wanted. 

 

"Look." He hated himself. He hated himself more than anything. "I can't pretend to be something that I'm not. You're-" he paused, collecting himself. "You're just going to have to go be gay with someone else."

 

By the time he turned around, Tweek was gone. For the third night in a row, he didn't sleep. His dad came in at around one a.m.

 

"Hey bud," he said. Craig sighed. "Look, Craig. I know you're gay. You don't have to pretend anymore."

 

"No, dad," he said wearily. "It wasn't real. It was just something the Asian girls at our school made up. It's not real."

 

"Son, I've seen you with Tweek. I've seen the way you two look at each other. And I'm not going to pretend to understand it, because I don't. But more than anything else, I want you to be happy. Okay?"

 

Craig sighed and rolled over. "Thanks, dad." It didn't matter. He had already ruined everything. He stared at the wall until morning. When he was able to get dressed, he did. Somehow he managed to get himself out of bed. He hadn't ever changed out of his clothes, so he walked out the door with only a few moments to spare. 

 

To his shock, though, Tweek was waiting for him on the sidewalk. There was something in his eyes, something hopeful. He looked at Craig as though- as though maybe he hadn't ruined everything. Maybe he was just being dramatic. Craig looked at him. Not trusting himself to speak, he extended his hand. Tweek stared at it for a moment, and Craig was positive his heart too was holding its breath, not even beating. Then, so slowly, so imperceptibly that Craig wasn't sure what he was going to do, Tweek's hand moved towards Craig's. Their hands met, and a flash of happiness ran to his heart. The hole was gone. Things were okay. He had never been more relieved. He didn't let go of Tweek's hand until they got to school. He held it proudly, for everyone to see, not caring if it made him gay. Hell, maybe he was gay. Or maybe it was just Tweek. But it didn't matter, because Tweek was beside him. Nothing else mattered.


	15. Chapter 15

The worst part about coming out was that he was no longer allowed in Tweek's room with the door closed. They had to sneak around like normal teenagers to do their experimenting. The bleachers were among their favorite places, and when Tricia could, she covered for them and let them hang out in her room. Tricia was getting a little obsessed with their relationship, and it weirded Craig out to no end, but he would never turn down a private place to mess around. And anyway, in Trish's mind they were probably just kissing and saying they liked each other.

 

Cartman had been weird since they came out too. He often followed them down the hallway, snickering behind his hand and talking to himself about "Cupid Me." Craig wasn't too bothered though, and Tweek didn't seem to be either. They were lost in a sort of haze of each other, and all that mattered was kissing whenever they wanted to, and holding hands down the hallways. Not even PC Principal's repeated talks about consent could bring Craig down. 

 

It was under the bleachers when they decided to take things further than they had before. Tweek's shirt was off, and Craig's pants were unzipped as they made out, rolling in the dirt together. Lately Craig had been wanting something more, something he had once thought was really gross. He brought it up to Tweek while on top of him.

 

"So, Tweek," he said, pinning his hands above his head playfully. "Guess what Kenny and Butters did in Hawaii?"

 

"Nnng I don't know. Did Kenny finally grow some balls and kiss him?"

 

"More than that," Craig said, wiggling his eyebrows. Tweek liked it when he was expressive, so he had learned a few very expressive moves, most involving eyebrows.

 

Tweek frowned, thinking. "Did they jerk each other off?"

 

Craig leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Worse." Tweek shivered.

 

"What? Really? The first time they were alone together they did more than jerk each other off? What sluts!"

 

"We've known Kenny was a slut since we started hanging out with him." Craig breathed on Tweek's neck, watching the goosebumps pop up on his skin with a grin.

 

"But Butters?"

 

"It's always the repressed ones that are the freaks." Craig bit Tweek's neck gently, just enough to make him jump. "See?"

 

"Oh fuck you," Tweek said, leaning into his teeth. "Alright, alright, I'll bite. What did Kenny and Butters do in Mexico?"

 

"Kenny fucked Butters. In the butt," Craig said, grabbing hold of Tweek's hips for emphasis.

 

"What? No he didn't."

 

"Really, I swear, he did." Tweek looked a little awed, or surprised.

 

"And Butters liked it?"

 

"Kenny said he begged for it. Have you thought about- you know?" Tweek looked a little afraid.

 

"I- a little. I don't know if I'd like it."

 

"Hey, there's no pressure if you don't want to do that stuff," Craig said. "I love the stuff we already do."

 

"I didn't say that!" Tweek looked at him, biting his lip. "Have you thought about- have you ever wanted to- you know? Touch my ass?"

 

"Yeah," Craig said. He was tired of the games. The games that kept him and Tweek frustrated. Things always seemed to work out better if one of them could at least be direct with the other. "Yeah I think it's kind of hot. But like I said, we totally don't-"

 

"I-I think it's kind of hot too," Tweek said quickly. The sentence sounded like one word. "I just didn't- AH! I didn't want you to think I was weird."

 

"Tweek, you are weird. And I lo- I really like that about you." He rolled his hips, pushing his boner onto Tweek's stomach. Tweek gasped. He leaned his head up towards Craig, and Craig got the hint, bringing his lips to meet Tweek's, running a hand down his chest and into his pants. Tweek arched his back, pushing his hips forward, and Craig let out a breathless laugh as his hand brushed Tweek's dick, sending a shudder through him. Craig unhooked his pants and pulled them off, taking off his shirt at the same time. "I, um. I brought some lube if you wanted to try. Just a finger."

 

"AH! ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO?"

 

Craig sighed. "Yes, Tweek. I've been fantasizing about your ass for weeks, alright? I just didn't want to freak you out." Tweek nodded, still biting his lip. Craig kissed him again, trying to get him to relax. His lips moved down, across Tweek's jawbone, then lower, to his neck. The goosebumps were back, and Tweek relaxed beneath his hands. He moved down again, caressing Tweek's chest. When Tweek was calm enough, Craig grabbed the bottle of lube from his backpack and stared at it dubiously. "If you want to do this. Are you sure you really want to do this and you're not just humoring me?"

 

"YES GOD DAMMIT I WANT TO DO THIS!"

 

"Okay. Then, um. Get on your hands and knees. Please." Tweek moved, pushing his ass into the air and his face towards the dirt. "I'll go real slow."

 

Craig squeezed the bottle onto his hand, and lubed up his pointer finger. He gently drew his finger across Tweek's rim, the way Kenny had told him. Tweek jumped, but didn't move or protest. With his other hand, Craig grabbed Tweek's cock and gave it a pump. Tweek shuddered again. Very gently, as slowly as he could, Craig slid a finger into Tweek's ass. Tweek let out a hiss of pain, and Craig stopped. "Are you okay?"

 

"Yeah," Tweek said. "'m fine. I think it's supposed to hurt at first." Craig slowly kept going, until nearly all of the finger had disappeared into Tweek's hole. He took a deep breath. Tweek was so hot and tight around him. He imagined his cock being surrounded by all that warmth, and it gave another twitch of interest. Craig fucked him with his finger a little faster, coming across a swollen spot that made Tweek cry out, a different kind of cry than the sounds of pain. He tightened his grip on the blond boy's cock, jerking him off as he fucked him. The noises coming out of his mouth were music to Craig's ears. His cock was so hard it was painful. There was nothing he wanted more than to be fucking Tweek, for reals. He hit the spot again and again, until Tweek was whining in pleasure. 

 

"You like that?" he asked. 

 

"Yes," Tweek said. "Oh god. Oh GOD. Nnng gunna cum, Craig."

 

"That good?" he asked, but Tweek didn't answer, he just thrust himself backwards, between Craig's finger and his hand, milking the orgasm from himself. He came with a shriek, and Craig felt his ass contracting around his finger, somehow, miraculously, tighter than it had been before. Tweek collapsed onto the ground, apparently unable to move. "Holy shit, dude."

 

"Fuck, Craig," Tweek said, voice heavy with sleep. "Fuck. Why have we not done that before?"

 

Craig shrugged. "I don't know. But now we can do it more."

 

"Fuck." Craig looked at him in amusement. He'd never heard Tweek say fuck so many times in a row. He lay beside Tweek. His cock was still achingly hard, but Tweek didn't seem to be in any state to help him out. He pulled Tweek into his arms, cock against his ass, but Tweek didn't seem to notice. Craig heard a snore, and hugged Tweek tighter to him, grinning. He let Tweek sleep for half an hour before getting him dressed and taking him home.

 

~~

 

Tweek picked Spiderman as his costume, to Craig's both delight and dismay. "Dude, come on, that's almost a couples costume. Dead Pool and Spider Man?"

 

"This is happening, Craig. Deal with it." He rolled his eyes. Tweek, though he never would have expected it, was getting stubborn as hell. 

 

"Fine," he said. "But if Cartman gives us any shit, that's on you."

 

"Dude, fuck Cartman. Not literally." 

 

He groaned. "God dammit, Tweek."

 

"Come on, this'll be fun! I swear."

 

"Since when are you the one reassuring me?" Craig asked.

 

"Since when are you the one freaking out?" Craig gave him a middle finger, but secretly he was ecstatic. Tweek had been getting calmer and calmer, at least while they were alone. Craig loved seeing his progress.

 

"Touche. You ready to go?" 

 

"Yeah dude, hang on." Tweek ran to his room, leaving Craig in the dust. He appeared a few minutes later with a bottle of Svedka. Craig's face contorted with incredulity.

 

"Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my Tweek?" Tweek blushed.

 

"I-I thought we could bring something. Just in case Bebe-AH! doesn't have alcohol."

 

"Where did you get that?"

 

"I-I got it from my aunt. She's cool." Craig grinned, pulling at the stretchy costume and pulling Tweek to him. He kissed his head and ran his fingers through the blond's hair. "I-I was thinking tonight if you wanted we could try-AH! More, uh, more ass stuff?"

 

"Yeah," Craig said, nodding emphatically. 

 

"I-I mean like..." Tweek gulped and leaned forward, as though they weren't alone in his house. "Like you fuck me. That kind of butt stuff."

 

"Yes." Craig nodded again.

 

"Are you sure? I mean-"

 

"Tweek, you're a dumbass," he said fondly. "I said yes. I'm obviously into it. Breathe. Don't freak." Tweek shot him an annoyed look. "Should we go?"

 

"AH! Okay. Let's put our masks on." They pulled the hoods of their costumes on, and Craig stared at Spider Man for a moment. Those pants did wonders for Tweek. Craig led the way outside, pausing so Tweek could lock the door. The air was chilly; the first snows were coming for them soon, and South Park could feel it. Little kids bundled up in coats over their costumes shivered down the streets holding their parents' hands on their search for candy. Older kids walked the streets like the cold couldn't get to them. He and Tweek joined a few other high schoolers in their walk down the block to get to Bebe's.


	16. Chapter 16

They were barely half an hour later, but Stan opened the door with the shit-eating grin on his face that only appeared when he was drunk. If Craig cared, he might have thought the guy had a drinking problem. "Craig! Tweek! Come in. Happy Halloween!"

 

"Fuck you," Craig said, but Stan just laughed him off. They walked into the warm room, sounds of the party surrounding them. The smell of beer hit him and he wrinkled his nose. He hated beer. Bebe ran up to them, hair down and curled into ringlets that suited her well. 

 

"Guys, I'm so happy you came!" Tweek held the vodka out to her. "Oh my god. You didn't have to do that."

 

"Thanks for having us," Tweek said, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the room. Bebe ushered them further into the house.

 

"Drinks are in the kitchen. Help yourselves. And have fun." Craig pulled his hood down, and saw Tweek do the same. Craig grabbed his hand and made for the kitchen. If he was surviving this night, he wasn't going to do it sober. He poured out two vodka-cokes and handed one to Tweek. He sipped his and looked around for their friends. 

 

"There's Clyde," he said. "C'mon."

 

They pushed their way through the sweaty bodies. Craig realized he didn't know a lot of them. He shrugged it off. "Hey, dude," he nearly shouted. Clyde turned towards them, face lighting up.

 

"Oh hey, guys. Thank god you're here. Bebe is not handing things well. She's really pissed off that I came tonight."

 

"What? I thought you guys were cool!" Tweek said.

 

"Well she said we were!" Cartman worked his way in between Clyde and Tweek, sardonic grin on his face.

 

"First rule of life, Craig. Never trust a chick that says she's cool with something. Trust me."

 

"Oh shove off, fat ass," Kyle said from behind Craig. He rolled his eyes but moved over so that Kyle, dressed as a red-headed Thor, could get in. "What would you know about girls? You've never dated one."

 

"I'm gunna need everyone to ignore Black Widow over nyah. She's got some sand in her vagina again, I'm afraid."

 

"God dammit, Cartman," Kyle said. He raised his cup to his lips, taking a gulp of whatever was inside with a grimace. "Ugh. Have you guys seen Stan? He looked pretty drunk earlier."

 

"He was by the front door a while ago, dude."

 

"Thanks," Kyle said, walking off. 

 

Cartman called after him, "Make sure you get your boyfriend to sweep the sand out of your vagina! Heh, amirite, guys?"

 

Craig rolled his eyes. "You two have issues. Sort your shit out and stop being a dick."

 

"You just don't understand," Cartman said. Clyde was making eye contact with a girl across the room, and giving her that Clyde look.

 

"Don't do it," Craig said. Clyde raised his drink and walked off towards the girl. Craig looked at Tweek and shrugged. He'd tried. Tweek downed his drink and left to get another, leaving Craig with Cartman.

 

"So, Craig, how's it going? Have you tapped that sweet ass yet?" Craig raised an eyebrow and his middle finger. "Come on, heh, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

 

"You're a freak, Cartman."

 

"Now, now, calling transginger people freaks isn't kewl, Craig. As a homosexual you should know that. So seriously. How was it?" Craig walked away, downing his drink and holding a finger to the sky. "Craaaaaiiiiiig."

 

He found Tweek uncomfortably chatting with Wendy, who had decided they were friends after she helped Tweek during their fake fight. "Hey dude," he said. "I need to ask you something." He poured another drink, then led Tweek out of the room, leaving Wendy behind, glaring at him.

 

"Oh thank god," Tweek said. "She never. Stops. Talking. AH!" He drank from the red solo cup, hands shaking, and the unmistakable smell of coffee rose toward Craig.

 

"What are you drinking?"

 

"White russian! Vodka and COFFEE! And cream."

 

"You're going to be up all night."

 

"You better keep me up all night." Craig felt a twitch of excitement. Tweek's hair was a mess, ruffled by the hood of his costume. Craig liked it; messiness suited Tweek. 

 

"I plan on it," he said, reaching around to grab Tweek's ass.

 

"Gay," a voice called from behind them. Craig turned to see Kenny smirking at him. He flipped him off.

 

"Hey, dude."

 

"How's it going, love birds?" 

 

"AH! Good. How are you?"

 

"Eh," he shrugged. "Butters is grounded again. I'm gunna get high and forget my woes. You dicks want in?"

 

"Sure," Craig said with a shrug. Tweek twitched beside him.

 

"No, I better not. It-AH! it makes me anxious." His hand shook as he took another drink from his coffee-laced cup. Craig glanced at him, worried. He didn't like leaving Tweek alone in groups of people. Tweek got anxious.

 

"Do you want me to stay with you, babe?" Tweek twitched his lips twice.

 

"No, it's okay, dude. You-AH! go smoke. I'll find you after." Craig frowned, scrutinizing his face for lies. When he found none, he shrugged, kissing Tweek on the cheek. He wore a broad smile as he followed Kenny out to the garage. He loved kissing Tweek in public. They sat on the cold wooden steps, passing Kenny's pipe between them. Craig coughed, embarrassed. He had only smoked a few times before, and every time had been with Kenny, who smirked at him now.

 

"You okay there, cowboy?" he asked. Craig flipped him off.

 

"If you would just get some pipe filters, I wouldn't hack up a lung every time."

 

"Grow some balls," Kenny said. He took a hit and blew a ring of smoke at Craig. "I can't convince Butters to sneak out of his house. He's still too innocent. Needs more corruption."

 

"Did anyone ever tell you you're a bad influence?" He held his hand out for the pipe, but Kenny shook his head.

 

"Oh no. No more for you. Wouldn't want you thinking I'm a bad influence or anything." Craig rolled his eyes and snatched the pipe from his hands. Kenny gave him the lighter without a fuss, and Craig took a hit, holding the smoke in until he felt the burn in his lungs. He blew it all into Kenny's face. "Hey, dude. Not cool."

 

"Sorry," he said with a sigh. Butterflies fluttered around his stomach. He couldn't stop thinking of Tweek, of the conversation they had before the party. He gulped. "So. How do you have sex?"

 

Kenny stared at him for a moment, nonplussed. "Um. Well. When a man loves a woman- or a man, or two women-"

 

"Kenny, you asshole. I mean, like how do you make it good? You've done it."

 

"Oh yeah," Kenny said, smirking. "I have. Alright, you and Tweek are gunna bone?"

 

"Tonight," Craig said, nodding. "Probably."

 

"Woohoo!" Kenny clapped him on the back. "Sick, dude!"

 

"Thanks."

 

"Yeah, I'll give you some pointers." Craig grinned as the start of his high came on, and tried to take in every last one of Kenny's tips.

 

When he went back inside, he was feeling far more confident about the whole sex thing. He grabbed himself another drink, sipping on it with the hopes it would ease his nerves. Tweek was sitting on the couch, chatting with, of all people, Kyle and Cartman. Craig sat beside him, throwing an arm around his waist. Tweek leaned into him, calm and clearly buzzed. He was warm, and Craig's body lit up where it touched him, sensitive from the weed and alcohol he'd imbibed.

 

"Hey, dude," Kyle said with a lazy smile. Craig frowned. Kyle and Cartman were sitting pretty close together. Their legs were nearly touching. 

 

"Hi." He decided it didn't matter, slipping into a warm, fuzzy world. "Why are you guys over here in the sausage corner? Did you strike out?"

 

"Don't care about getting laid tonight," Cartman said. "I just want to get drunk."

 

"Stan passed out on a bed upstairs. I'm off duty."

 

"Right on," Craig said. He rubbed Tweek's back absentmindedly, and Tweek got a sleepy grin on his face. He held him tighter and listened to Cartman and Kyle bicker. Their voices faded into a kind of background noise. Tweek was the only one he cared about in the moment. His face pushed up against Tweek's, and their lips pushed together. Craig didn't particularly care who was watching, and it didn't matter. All he knew was he needed his hands all over Tweek right now.

 

"Heh, get a room," Kyle said somewhere in the back of his mind. He pulled away from Tweek reluctantly and flipped Kyle off.

 

They spent the rest of the party trying not to touch each other too much. Craig felt magnetically glued to Tweek's side, unable to leave him for more than a few moments. The warmth spread through him. By the time they left, Craig was itching, itching to get Tweek's clothes off, to have his hands everywhere he had wanted them all night. He practically dragged Tweek out the door, saying hurried goodbyes to their friends, who were, he hoped, too drunk to notice just why he and Tweek were running out. "My house?" he asked. His parents were out of town. Tweek nodded, and they hurried down the street, clutching their jackets to their chests. Craig led them to the basement. He wasn't sure if Tricia was home, and the last thing he wanted was for his sister to hear them. Craig fingered his pocket, making sure he still had the small bottle of lube he'd stuck there earlier. He found the comforting smooth bottle. 

 

There wasn't much in the basement. Mostly just boxes, and maybe a few mice. An old, ragged couch lay in the middle of the room, however, and Craig supposed it would have to do. As soon as they managed to get a light on and fumble their way to the couch, Craig was pouncing on him. It felt so good, so good in his inebriated state, to be pressed against Tweek, hands underneath his stupid Spider Man costume, ripping it off. Tweek was touching him too, and he realized that somewhere along the way he'd lost his clothes. Tweek pawed at his cock, almost desperately, and Craig felt it hardening despite the alcohol. He sat on the couch, letting Tweek kneel in front of him. He gasped as he felt Tweek's lips graze his cock, then felt a sudden warmth engulf him. Tweek's lips were soft, teasing against him, working him up to full hardness. He grabbed a handful of Tweek's hair, which had been gelled into his customary spikes for the party, and pushed himself into the back of Tweek's throat. He thrust upward, feeling he'd never been this hard in his life, never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Tweek. He pulled himself up, gasping, as he felt through the pile of clothes for his lube.

 

His hand landed on it, and in triumph ran back to where Tweek kneeled. He gently pulled him to the cold stone floor and kissed him again, biting his lip gently as he reached a hand between Tweek's legs. Tweek twitched as Craig touched his ass, gently moving downwards. Craig squeeze some of the lube onto two of his fingers, and slipped one into Tweek. Tweek let out a sharp hiss of air, and Craig stopped moving, letting Tweek adjust to the intrusion. Slowly, as gently as he could, Craig began to move it in and out of him. Tweek let out muffled gasps, harsh sounds, pained at first that gave way to softer gasps. Craig kissed his neck, sucking on the spot right above his shoulder to distract him as he slid another lubed finger inside. Tweek let out a powerful twitch, but didn't complain more than a soft moan in Craig's ear. Craig scissored his fingers, moving them slowly in and out of Tweek until he was making the same keening sounds he had made under the bleachers. Craig pulled his fingers out and Tweek whined.

 

Thinking he'd hurt him, Craig asked, "Are you okay?"

 

"Nnnnng don't stop," Tweek gasped. 

 

Craig smirked, unable to help himself. "Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked. Tweek nodded violently. "Get on the couch, then."

 

Tweek pulled himself up onto the couch. He spread his legs, hanging his ass nearly off the couch, gleaming with streaks of lube. Craig stroked his cock, originally just to lube it up, but he found he liked the view of Tweek presenting himself. When he couldn't contain himself any longer, he moved to the side of the couch, then climbed on, next to Tweek. He moved Tweek's knees to his shoulders and lifted him up, a few inches. He looked to Tweek, asking with his eyes if he was sure. Tweek just nodded. Craig lined himself up, feeling the lube around Tweek's ass. He pushed himself in, feeling Tweek open up for him, hearing a sharp intake of breath before being surrounded by pleasure. Tweek's mouth had been amazing, and his hands great, but he had never felt anything as good as his ass. He thrust himself all the way in, then paused, overwhelmed by the sensation of tight heat all around him. Tweek wrapped his legs around Craig's waist, pulling him deeper, and he let out a strangled groan. Kenny had warned him, told him that he'd want to cum right away. Focusing hard, he squeezed his leg muscles, feeling himself fall away from the brink of orgasm. 

 

When he had himself back under control, he began to thrust, starting out slowly so they could both adjust to the sensation. Tweek squirmed under him, and he opened his eyes, just for a moment. Enough to make sure that everything was alright. But Tweek's lips were curled into a smile, and his eyes were closed. Craig leaned forward again, latching his teeth around Tweek's neck as he began rutting against him. He gasped, without realizing it, as Tweek started crying out the way he had before, and he kept thrusting, aiming for the same spot. He sped up, losing control of himself. Craig needed to bury himself deep inside Tweek, over and over, he needed to go faster to reach his peak. He fucked into Tweek once, twice more then buried himself inside as he came, deep inside Tweek. Against his stomach, he registered something wet, and realized Tweek was cumming too, even though Craig had neglected his cock. He shuddered, after shocks running through him, and collapsed on top of Tweek.

 

"Oof," Tweek said. Craig summoned up every muscle in his body and managed to roll an inch away from him. Tweek curled up against his chest, hand resting on Craig's cheek. 

 

"Tweek?" he asked.

 

"Yeah?" a sleepy voice replied. 

 

"How was that? For you?" He groaned as soon as the words were past his lips. How cliche. 

 

"Awesome," Tweek murmured. Craig grinned, more than a little proud.

 

"Tweek?"

 

"Yeah?" Craig wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. 

 

"I-uh. I love you." Tweek looked up at him with hazy eyes.

 

"I love you too."


	17. Chapter 17

"Kahl, I swear to god you dirty little day walker if you're lying to me, you're gunna pay."

 

"No, dude, I'm serious," Kyle said.  Craig rolled his eyes, entwining his fingers with Tweek's under the table.  "Garrison is honestly, truly, going to run for president in 2016.  This is not a joke."

 

"He's right," Tweek said.  "He fucked the Canadian prime minister to death and now he's going to AH! run for president."

 

"Dude, no way," Stan said.  "That's pretty fucked up right there."

 

"Well it's not like he's going to get elected," Craig said.  "Nobody out there is stupid enough to actually vote for him.  Even if he ends up running."

 

"Yeah, guys, there's no fucking way anyone would let Garrison be the president of the United States."

 

A murmur of agreement rose up from the table, and Tweek visibly relaxed.  Craig squeezed his hand.  He thought about his tight ass, and how eagerly Tweek had been presenting it lately.  Tweek's sharp hip bones jutted up against his shirt, begging to be grabbed.  Sitting so close to his lover in a crowded cafeteria with all of his friends nearby was torturous.  Kenny sat next to Craig, lips curled up in amusement.

 

"Hey guys."

 

"Hey Kenny.  Why are you so late?"

 

"Had some car problems this morning." 

 

Craig frowned.  "You don't own a car."

 

Kenny shrugged, mischevious glint in his eyes.  Craig felt like he was on the outside of an inside joke.  He brooded for a moment, then decided he didn't care. Kenny grabbed a few of his fries, biting into them dramatically.  The cafeteria had a subdued feeling to it.  PC Principal had been in a particularly irritated mood all week, with all of the election talk coming out, and he had taken it out on more than a few students.  Those that survived the initial explosion quieted, hoping to avoid any contact with his anger. 

 

"So do you think he's really going to go through with it?  Running for president, I mean."

 

"No way, dude, remember when he was a lesbian?  How long did that last, maybe a month?  He can't stick to any kind of plan.  There's no way he's going to do it," Stan said.  Craig tried to listen.  He really did; he knew how much Tweek cared about the results of the election.  But all of the talk filtered out of his brain. Only the important stimuli were let through, like Tweek's smell, sweet with a hint of musk, and his voice, let out in occasional shrieks, the heat of the spot where their legs rubbed together.  By the time lunch was over, he was fully hard.  He tucked his erection into the waistband of his jeans, hoping no one would notice.

 

He pulled Tweek to the side.  "Do you want to ditch class and fuck?" he asked quietly.  Tweek shrieked, nervously looking from side to side.

 

"Ah! NO! We'll get in so much trouble."

 

"I'll take the fall if we get caught.  I promise."  Tweek still looked nervous.  He was biting his lip, chewing on it with his eyebrows locked together.  Craig waited, stroking his arm.

 

"You're the worst, AH! You know that?"

 

Craig grinned in triumph.  "I do.  I take the fall for that too."  He looked around for out of place teachers or any kids that were narcs enough to rat him out.  When he saw none, he gently pulled Tweek out of the building.  Giggling, they ran to Craig's car, eyes alert for anyone trying to stop them.  No one did.  Craig peeled out of the parking lot.  "So my place or yours?" He frowned.  "Actually my mom might be home.  Yours okay?"

 

Tweek smiled.  The anxiety was mostly gone from his face now, replaced with excitement.  "Yeah, both of them are at the shop!"

 

"Perfect," Craig said.  He tried his best imitation at an evil laugh, grinning when he got Tweek to giggle.  "If we're fast, we might only miss one class."  He didn't know why he said that, since Tweek didn't seem to care they were ditching now.  He pulled into Tweek's driveway and nearly ran into the house.  He pushed Tweek against a wall as soon as they'd both made it in, his hand on the back of Tweek's head to keep him from bumping it.  Their lips bumped together with a haste, pulling what they needed from one another.  Tweek laughed under his lips and he pulled away.

 

"This-this isn't boring to you yet?  You look at me like I'm a god."

 

Craig brushed a strand of hair back away from Tweek's eyes.  "You," he said emphatically.  "You could never be boring to me, Tweek."  Tweek seemed to relax.  "Why, am I boring you?"

 

"No, of course not," Tweek said with a scowl.  Craig looked at his mock-angry face, warmth in his heart washing over him.  He gripped Tweek's cheeks in his hands, pulling his face close.

 

"You're perfect.  You know that?  You're fucking perfect."  Tweek let out another laugh.

 

"I'm nowhere even close.  That may have been the corniest thing I've heard you say."

 

Craig frowned.  "Gross."

 

"I love it."  Craig wanted to protest, wanted to reclaim his tough sarcastic status, but Tweek was kissing him again and he forgot what he was going to say.  

  
  
Their clothes were half off by the time they got to Tweek's room.  There wasn't even time to shut the door, Tweek was shoving Craig by his shirt onto the bed, straddling him.  Craig smiled again, unable to help himself.  He loved the view of Tweek above him, his long blond hair hanging down over his eyes.   Something cold touched his dick and he shuddered.  His shirt was still on.  So was Tweek's, but it didn't seem important right now.  He closed his eyes with a gasp as the hand on his cock slowly began to move, Then Tweek was above him, fingering his ass with the lube, the lube Craig wasn't sure where he got.  He sat still, putting his hands on Tweek's hips but otherwise just enjoying the show.  Gingerly, with unpracticed hands, Tweek slid himself onto Craig's ass, gasping.  Craig looked up at his face, which had contorted into a mask of pleasure mixed with a little pain.  Tweek's eyes were closed, rolled backwards into his head, and he lowered himself slowly, barely an inch at a time until Craig's cock was encased in warmth.  He groaned, instinctively thrusting up, into Tweek even further, and Tweek let out another breathless gasp.

 

Tweek began to rock back and forth on his cock, whimpering above him,  his smaller cock standing at full attention.  Craig kept one hand on his jutting hipbone, moving the other to grip his cock, moving his hand up and down in time with Tweek's riding.  Tweek rode him slowly, though, tentatively, like he was afraid he'd break Craig's cock.  Craig wanted more, no it was past that at this point, he needed to be in control, to be deeper.  With a little grunt of effort, he flipped Tweek onto his back, careful to keep his cock inside.  He began thrusting, harder than he'd dared to do before, but his orgasm was fast approaching, especially with Tweek's moans, incoherent curses or prayers to whatever gods lived in his bedrooms.  He felt himself tense, then rammed into Tweek as hard as he could, letting out a cry as he blearily tugged at Tweek's cock, hoping to make him cum in time.  He got his wish, and Tweek let out a last "nnng" before cumming all over his hand.

 

Craig lay panting for a few minutes.  "How did I get so lucky??" he asked no one.  Tweek curled up beside him, his usual post-coital sleepiness on his face.

 

"Just shut up and cuddle me," Tweek mumbled.  Craig did what he was told.

 

~

 

Kenny arrived outside of Tweek's house after school was long over.  Craig and Tweek had had sex and napped alternately the entire afternoon, and were a tangled mess of sweaty limbs on top of Tweek's when they heard a sharp rap at the window.

 

"AH!" Tweek shrieked, jumping off the bed to the other side, where Kenny wouldn't see his nudity.  Craig sighed, pulling the blanket over his lower body and shooting an apologetic glance at Tweek.

 

"Dude.  What the fuck, Kenny?"

 

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important," he said.  Craig squinted at him.  He looked awful; his Mysterion mask barely covered his bloodshot eyes, and his hands shook against the window.  Craig pulled him inside.  "It's Butters."

 

"What happened?"  Tweek asked, emerging in sweat pants.

 

"They want to send him away.  They found out- about us.  They want to send him to live in Hawaii.  Forever.  I don't know what to do."

 

Kenny was shaking.  He fell to the floor and put his face in his hands.  Craig's annoyance was fully replaced with concern.  He looked at Tweek helplessly, as Tweek sat beside Kenny and put an arm around his shoulders.  Craig stood awkwardly for another moment, then sat on Kenny's other side.  "Hey.  We'll help you figure it out," Tweek said.

 

"We could just punch his dad until he says he'll let Butters stay."

 

"I'll hide him in my attic."

 

Kenny gave them a small smile.  "Thanks, guys.  As much as I'd love to tear Steven Stotch's head off, I also don't want Butters to totally hate me forever.  I think threats might be the way to go.  That's why I need you."

 

Tweek gave Craig a confused glance.  "How can we help?"

 

"Well," Kenny said.  He didn't look very hopeful.  "You guys are super gay and out and everything.  And he likes you guys.  Maybe if you talk to him he'll listen to you.  Realize that it isn't that bad."

 

"i mean we can try, dude, but if he's made up his mind I doubt two highschoolers are going to change it."  Kenny stared down the carpet.

 

"I know.  But I have to try.  Before I do something really drastic."

 

They dressed, and made their way to the Stotch house, Kenny trailing a few feet behind.  He insisted on waiting in the bushes while Craig and Tweek talked to the man, much to Craig's displeasure.  The doorbell echoed through the large house, and footsteps, heavy and unwieldy, sounded towards them.  the door opened to reveal a stench of beer and an intoxicated Stephen Stotch.  Craig instinctively reached for Tweek's hand.

 

"What do you want?" he slurred at them.  Tweek shuddered.

 

"We heard that you were sending Butters away."

 

Stephen scowled.  "Might be.  What's it to you?  Butters is grounded right now.  You can't talk to him." 

 

"Actually we were hoping to talk to you, sir," Tweek said, squeezing Craig's hand like a lifeline.  Stephen stared between them, evidently suspicious, for a long moment before opening the door all the way.

 

"Alright.  But you've got to make it quick."  Craig stepped into the house, noting the over painted walls where the older coats could still be seen in spots.  A family portrait with a streak of green over Butters' face hung over the couch, and it creeped Craig out enough that he pulled Tweek as far from it as he could without looking suspicious.  "Alright, then, what do you have to say?"

 

"Well," Craig said, taking in a deep breath and letting some of his anger out with the air.  "Butters is almost an adult.  You can't keep moving him around forever."

 

"I absolutely can, young man.  I'm his father.  And this new nonsense with the McCormick kid... Trust me, Butters will be better off in Hawaii."

 

"AH! You know he'll still be gay in Hawaii, right?"  Stephen's face grew pinker.

 

"Butters isn't gay.  He's just a little bicurious, is all.  If I take him away from that stupid son of a whore that corrupted him, he'll go right back to normal."

 

"Are you saying being gay isn't normal?" Craig asked, clinging tightly to Tweek's hand so he wouldn't be as tempted to flip off Stotch.

 

"Well," he said, looking around the ceiling.  "I mean, for you boys, it's one thing.  But this is my son.  I'm afraid I'm not going to be the same for him.  Butters.  He's different.  Special."

 

"You can't control him forever," Craig reasoned.  "You might as well start trying to accept him now."

 

"I am afraid I can't do that," Mr. Stotch said, standing.  He was only a few inches taller than Craig, but he seemed to think he looked very intimidating.  Craig stood, instinctively pushing Tweek behind him.  "And if you boys don't get out of here, I'm going to call your parents and make sure you're grounded too."  He led them to the door, practically shoving them out of it.  Kenny waited for them, glaring at the door.

 

"I heard that.  God he's an asshole.  I'd fucking kill him if it wouldn't destroy Butters.  Guess it's time for plan B."

 

"Plan B?" Tweek and Craig asked together.  

 

"We intimidate him into doing what we want.  Or- I do.  You stay here, Tweek.  You can't come with us." 

 

"I'm coming," he said, steely eyed.  Craig squeezed his eyes shut.

 

"Tweek, it's different for me and Kenny."

 

"Why, because of the guinea pig thing and Kenny can't die?  I don't care, dude, I want to help Butters."  Craig gave him a long, hard look before nodding.

 

"He comes with us."  Kenny scowled at both of them.

 

"You have no idea what you're dealing with.  Stotch is a seriously fucked up evil bastard."  Kenny stared into Tweek's eyes for a long moment, apparently seeing the same resolve Craig had.  "Fine.  Tweek, you get Butters out of the house.  In case shit goes down."  Tweek folded his arms, but seemed mollified enough.  

 

Kenny hopped onto the roof in quick movements Craig couldn't follow.  He and Tweek took the safer path, using the electrical box to get higher before heaving themselves onto the roof behind Kenny.  They followed him to the window with stickers on it that could belong to no one except Butters.  Kenny rapped out a rhythm and the window opened.  Butters had a black eye, but wore a broad smile when he saw Kenny.  He threw his arms around Kenny's scrawny neck and clung to him like he was the messiah.  Then he pulled away and held a finger to his lips.  He grabbed a notepad and a pen from somewhere behind them and wrote out, "My mom is Right Outside the door."  Kenny nodded, quietly slipping in through the window.  He helped Butters through to where Craig and Tweek waited.  Craig held onto to his elbows and helped him down, while Tweek patted his back and pointed the way down out to him.  Craig made to follow Kenny, but Kenny stopped him, holding out a finger.  He grabbed the sketch pad and scribbled in it for a moment.  

 

Craig took it, and squinted as he held it up to the dim light.  "I have to do this alone," he read.  When he turned again, Mysterion was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

Tweek hopped down first somehow, despite his shakes, and Craig lowered Butters down to him. Butters seemed incapable of guiltlessly defying his dad, and Craig and Tweek had to half carry him to get him to move. 

 

"Kenny," Butters said, eyes wide. "Kenny's still in there. He's gunna get hurt. My dad's awful sore at me. He's gunna take it all out on Kenny! We can't leave him there. Oh, jeez, I should just turn myself in and take the grounding."

 

Tweek clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shh dude, he's Kenny. He'll be fine."

 

"He wanted us to get you out of there," Craig said. "He'll meet us soon."

 

"We can't leave him in there alone," Butters said, stubbornly shaking his head. Craig rubbed his forehead, trying to think without blaming Butters.

 

"Okay," he said finally. "Tweek, you're going to take Butters to your place and tell your parents he's staying the night. I'll help Kenny." Both blond boys objected at once, but he held up a hand. "I'm the biggest and the strongest. I'm Kenny's best shot. You two go home. I'll bring Kenny and meet you as soon as I can, okay?"

 

"Okay," Tweek said, clearly not happy. He turned from Craig without a goodbye or even another word, and Craig watched him go, heart breaking a little. It seemed unlikely that Stotch would kill him, but on the rare chance that he did, would that be the last time Tweek saw him? He pulled himself away with some effort, and got back onto the roof of the Stotch house. He carefully crawled along the shingles until he made it to Butter's' still open window. The door was ajar, and muddy footprints led out to the hallway. The house was eerily quiet, and he wondered where Kenny and Stotch even were. He crept out of Butters' room, wishing he had any kind of weapon with him. 

 

They weren't in the upstairs rooms; he checked thoroughly, finding only the sleeping mother. He walked down the stairs, hoping that's where they had gone. The footprints had long since disappeared. He made his way as quietly as he could into the living room where he and Tweek had talked to Stotch, but it too was empty. And so was the kitchen. The basement door seemed to be calling out to him, creepy and inviting all at once. That was where they were. He gulped, then turned the black door handle and stepped into the dark. Muffled sounds, groans of pain or frustration, echoed up the stairs. Craig ran down them. If Kenny was being tortured, there was no time for reticence now. He tripped, falling face first into the basement, heart racing.

 

When he landed, he saw Kenny and Stotch, both staring at him. Stotch was tied to a chair and Kenny stood over him, looking annoyed at his intrusion. "Hey Craig," he sighed.

 

"Hey... Mysterion," Craig said, standing up and dusting himself off. He scrutinized them more closely. Stotch had an angry red mark, the preview of a bruise, against his face, in the same spot Butters had. "What's going on?"

 

"Mmmmmp. Mmmmph!" Stotch said through his gag. Craig tried to feel sorry for him, but then he remembered Butters, how scared and broken he had seemed.

 

"I'm teaching him a lesson," Kenny said in a matter of fact tone. "He hurt Butters." Craig shrugged. It seemed fair enough. He'd do the same or worse if it was Tweek.

 

"Are you going to kill him?" he asked. Stotch's eyes grew wide, and he shook his head from side to side. Kenny gave him a long look, his eyes hard.

 

"Probably not. I'll only do to him what he did to others. I am a warrior of justice."

 

"Alright," Craig said, surprised at how calm he felt seeing a man tied up and beaten. "What about Butters? What if he finds out?"

 

"He won't. Or we'll have another talk, huh mister Stotch? Are you gunna tell Butters?" Mr. Stotch shook his head furiously. "See?"

 

"Okay," Craig said. "Well what should we do with Butters? He can't stay here." Kenny's face fell. He clearly hadn't thought about it.

 

"I don't know- I-I'd take him home with me, but I can barely feed my family as it is. I don't think I can- Shit, what do I do?"

 

Craig thought about it. His mind came up almost blank; there was only one solution he could think of. Reluctantly, he voiced it. "Well you can't take him. Tweek definitely can't take him, his parents are fucking crazy. I don't know if my parents would be okay with it. But he could at least stay with me for a little while. Until we can figure out something better."

 

"Thank you," Kenny said. "Thank you. Seriously, Craig. You're a life-saver." Craig shrugged, embarrassed. "Now I need you to get the fuck out of here. You won't like what comes next."

 

Craig agreed whole heartedly. He might have believed in vigilante justice, but that didn't mean he wanted to watch it happen. He slipped out of the house and nearly ran to Tweek's. He'd be worried, and not to mention pissed off at Craig for leaving him on babysitting duty. When he arrived, breathless and sweaty, he pounded on the door. There was time to register a blur of blond, and then Tweek was in his arms, and he was squeezing him tightly, finally feeling that everything was okay again. "Hey," he whispered to the top of Tweek's head.

 

"Hey yourself," Tweek muttered. "Where's-AH! Where's Kenny?"

 

"He's..." Craig trailed off, trying to find the words for He's torturing someone who's tied up in the basement. He settled on, "He's coming. He's safe. He's just... taking care of a few things."

 

Tweek twitched and glared at him. Craig would have told him everything if it wasn't for the mop of yellow hair that appeared over Tweek's shoulder. "Hey, Craig. Where's Kenny? My dad didn't hurt him too bad, did he?"

 

"No, of course not," Craig said. "He's fine. He's just trying to get you out of trouble."

 

Butters shuffled from foot to foot. "Well that's awful nice of him. Kenny sure is cool, isn't he?"

 

Tweek grinned at Craig, knowingly. "AH! Sure, dude, he's cool."

 

"Hey Butters? Do you want to stay at my place? Until Kenny sorts your dad out?"

 

Surprise flickered across his face. Butters had one of those faces, so honest that you could see everything he thought as he was thinking it. Craig saw his choice before Butters voiced it. "Well sure, Craig. I mean, when my dad calms down, and maybe gives up on a little of the grounding I need to go back. But until then, we can have a sleepover." Craig looked to Tweek. He wasn't sure why he felt like he needed to get his permission, but he knew it was important. To his relief, however, Tweek just nodded, eyes solemn. 

 

"You guys should get out of here," Tweek said, looking between them and the door. "My parents will be home soon. I don't want them- AH! Asking questions." Craig nodded, then pulled him back into his arms for a kiss. 

 

"I love you, babe," he said. There was a split second, there always was, where Craig worried he wouldn't say it back. Like Tweek had finally seen through to the real Craig, and wanted nothing to do with him. But then the second ended.

 

"I love you too. Text me when you're home, alright?" Craig smiled and nodded.

 

Butters was the best house guest Craig could have asked for. Because his parents didn't understand the gay thing, they wouldn't let him stay in Craig's room. But that was fine with Craig, and Butters as well who was given the entire basement for himself. Not that Butters spent much time there. He was usually in the kitchen, helping Craig's mom with things or just organizing everything compulsively. Craig noticed that he got anxious, nearly as fidgety as Tweek's normal state, when he was relaxing and not helping. And sure, his loo loo loos could be extremely annoying, and the way he agreed with Craig's parents about everything was exhausting, but there was such a sweetness to him, behind the damage, that Craig couldn't help but love.

 

Tricia and his parents took to Butters right away, especially Trish. The two had a lot in common, besides Trish's laziness and Craig sometimes heard them giggling like idiots late into the night. Occasionally Craig joined them. But he, seemingly unlike everyone else in the world, needed his eight hours of sleep to be functional. One of the best parts of Butters staying over, though, was that Kenny hung around constantly. He and Tweek were frequent guests, and although Craig's sex life suffered, hanging out with another gay couple was pretty cool. 

 

His parents were pleased too. One evening he heard Laura remark to his father, "This place is turning into a frat house," which, coming from Laura Tucker, was the best Craig could have hoped for. Kenny assured him that he wouldn't have to worry about Butters' parents.

 

"I have photographic evidence of abuse," he said. "Had to die a couple times to get it, but now I have video. If Stotch tries anything- and I mean anything- that all goes to the police. He'd lose custody of Butters forever."

 

"What if Butters wants to go back?"

 

"Then," Kenny said with a wicked grin. "I get to go back and have a talk with his loving father about the details of what will happen if he ever lays a hand on his son again. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to it." Craig gulped, a little worried. Kenny was fucking terrifying when he wanted to be.

 

"You aren't going to- like, kill him or anything?" Kenny shook his head. "Cool."


	19. Chapter 19

Craig was pretty cool with the whole having less sex thing. He repeated that to himself, over and over, until it could have been almost, kind of true. The truth was, he was frustrated as hell. When he and Tweek cuddled on the couch next to Kenny and Butters, all he could focus on Tweek's smell, the rich smell of coffee mixed with something more primal. Touching that blond, soft hair gave him hard-ons. Even feeling Tweek's hand on his arm could be enough to get him going these days. He found himself aching for winter to be over, for track season to start, just so they would be able to use the bleachers again. In the meantime, cramped gropes in the back of his two-door camry would have to do. 

 

"Catch," Craig said, throwing a granola bar at Butters.

 

"Hey, thanks, Craig," Butters said.

 

"My mom said you didn't have breakfast." Craig turned back to Tweek, and for just a moment saw the irritated look he was givivng Butters. He frowned. "What's up?"

 

"Nothing," Tweek said. Craig shrugged, sure he imagined it. He pulled out the rest of his lunch and dug in.

 

"Hey boners," Cartman said, sliding in next to Butters.

 

"Hey Cartman," Craig said. Cartman looked between each of them, seeming even more smug than usual. 

 

"What's got you so happy, fatass?" Stan asked. Cartman let out a low chuckle.

 

"Why don't you ask Kahl?"

 

"Where AH! Where is Kyle?" Tweek asked, looking around the cafeteria. Craig didn't see him.

 

"He's probably still trying to walk."

 

"Did you break his leg?" Butters asked. Craig got a feeling looking at Cartman's smug face that that wasn't the case.

 

"If I broke anything it was internal."

 

"GAH! What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

 

"Well, you gahs. Kyle came over to my house last night all flustered and Jewy and shit. And he was all like, 'Let's play overwatch,' but I didn't have Overwatch. And thennn, we were all sitting on the couch just watching football, and then Kahl was all on top of me and begging for it, so I gave it to him. Isn't that so awesome, you gahs?"

 

"That's disgusting," Craig said. Butters laughed.

 

"AH! No it isn't. Not if they were- nnngg both into it." Craig looked at him, wondering if he had been lying when he said nothing was wrong.

 

"I didn't even know you were gay, dude," Stan said. Cartman chuckled.

 

"Oh, Stan, you stupid cissy. It's just like you to put this in hetero-normative terms because you can't understand the complications of the ginger and sexuality spectrums. I'm biflexual, okay?"

 

"You're a dumb ass, Cartman. Like Kyle would ever sleep with you." 

 

"You should have locked that shit down, Stan, cus that sweet Jew ass is all mine, now."

 

Stan sputtered, turning red. "I've been with Wendy for like three years! I'm straight, dude!"

 

Cartman shared a glance with Tweek, like they were cohorts or something. "It's hilarious to watch how freaked out straight guys get when someone questions their sexuality. I'm just kidding. But really, Kahl's mine."

 

"No I'm not, you stupid fucking fat ass!" A voice called from behind their table. Kyle stood behind Cartman, his face as red as his hair, looking like he was about to kill someone.

 

"Hey Kyle," Stan mumbled. Kyle didn't even look at him.

 

"You think you can just run in here and tell all of my friends about my horrible fucking judgement like it was your conquest? I'm not your fucking prize." Craig stared at him with wide eyes, disbelieving. Kyle was usually so mild mannered, so in control. Now he looked- well, there was no other word for it, unhinged. "I came to your fucking house last night because I was drunk, and I fucked you. And you're the one who fucking begged for it. But after this, it's never happening again. Because you're cah-bagge. You're fucking muff cah-bagge."

 

He stormed out of the cafeteria. Cartman followed him out. "Kahl? Kahl! Kahl, Kahl, Kahl," he yelled, striding after Kyle. "Kahl, come on, I was just kidding."

 

The table was silent for nearly a minute, before Stan cleared his throat. "That's some pretty fucked up shit right there."

 

"What is?" Kenny asked, siddling in next to Butters and pecking him on the cheek. He looked from one shocked face to another. "What? What'd I miss?"

 

~~

 

"I just- holy shit, dude." Stan said to Craig. Craig rolled his eyes, trying to conjure up some sympathy. 

 

"Stan," he said, voice devoid of emotion. "I know this is going to be really hard to hear right now, and I know Cartman's an asshole, but if you care about Kyle you need to mind your own business."

 

"But-" Stan stopped looking green. Craig handed him the trashcan again and let him barf into it, wrinkling his nose as the smell hit him. 

 

"Gross, dude."

 

"Sorry. But seriously? Cartman?" Craig looked to Tweek, who seemed to have forgiven him for whatever he did earlier.

 

"You know, it's not that surprising," Tweek mused. "I mean- nnng, they sort of always had that- that thing."

 

Craig nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, he's right. Remember when Cartman made Kyle suck his balls in fourth grade?"

 

"Or at the party when Kyle was practically nnng- molesting him in public? Come on, dude, there's been chemistry between them for years."

 

"God dammit," Stan muttered. "I need a drink."

 

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

 

"Yeah" Stan said, his voice suggesting the stop of asking questions. Craig watched him leave, trying not to be concerned. Tweek took his hand.

 

"AH! Life's weird, dude."

 

"No kidding." 

 

Tweek opened his mouth, then shut it again. Craig waited as patiently as he could, knowing he'd speak eventually. "Sorry about earlier."

 

"What about it?"

 

"I-I accted like an-AH! asshole. I wanted to explain."

 

"Dude, don't worry about it."

 

"No, Craig, let me talk," Tweek said, pulling at his hair. Craig shut up. "I just- AH! I hate that Butters is staying with you. I-I know that you two aren't like together, but it's-AH! It's just seeing you get so close to him. It hurts, dude. I feel like you see him more than you see me. And- AH! I don't know. Do you even still want to-AH! nnng be together?"

 

Craig stared for a moment, stunned. "Of course I want to be with you." Some of the tension drained from Tweek's shoulders. "I'm sorry. Butters is just a friend. I promise."

 

"I know that," Tweek muttered.

 

"Do you want him to leave?"

 

"No!" Tweek said, looking alarmed. "No, fuck no. He needs a house-AH! And he likes yours. He belongs there. I just- I just want to see you more, okay? Like alone."

 

"Okay," Craig said. Guilt wracked through him. "Of course, Tweek."

 

"Cool," Tweek said, finally meeting his eyes. "So after class, can we hang out? At my place?"

 

"Yes," Craig said, nodding emphatically. He would have to move everything around that he had had planned, but Tweek should have already been enough of a priority that Craig mapped out time for him. Shame curled around his gut. "I'm sorry, Tweek." Tweek shrugged like it wasn't a big deal and they left the cafeteria together.

 

Craig really wanted to hang out with Tweek alone. He really did. But when Kenny burst in on them walking to Craig's car, dreams of being alone evaporated, especially after Kenny hopped into the back seat.

 

"We have to talk," he said in his Mysterion voice.

 

Craig rolled his eyes, shooting an apologetic glance at Tweek. "Why? Is some new monster going to overtake the world and kill us all? Again? I don't care. get out of my car, Kenny."

 

"It's worse than that," Kenny said. "It's Cartman."

 

"What about him."

 

"He's been trolling the girls and now they're really pissed off."

 

"Don't care," Craig said.

 

"AH!" Tweek echoed.

 

"Well you guys need to care. Because we are all going to break all his shit tonight, and you guys have to be in on it."

 

"No," Tweek said emphatically, shaking his head back and forth. "No fucking way, dude, that's way too much pressure!"

 

"Then Craig can be there for both of you. But we have to make a stand. Together." Craig sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked over at Tweek, who stared at him with a gaze he couldn't read.

 

"No," he said, sighing. "I can't. I have plans tonight."

 

"Go," Tweek said, some kind of resentment in his eyes. Craig sighed again. "Come on, one of us has to."

 

"Fine. But we get it over with quickly. I don't want to draw this out."

 

Cartman chattered on and on the entire way to the cabin. Craig couldn't help the guilt. The what ifs. What if they were wrong. Kyle seemed the most stricken of all of them. He wouldn't even look at Cartman. And Cartman probably assumed it was because of the scene in the cafeteria. For Cartman, he was very restrained, carefully not mentioning the subject, shooting Kyle nervously hopeful glances as though a trip to play video games in the middle of the woods was somehow a date. They broke all of his electronics five minutes later, leaving him crying alone in the cabin in the woods. Kyle walked back with Craig, looking absolutely shell-shocked. He didn't speak, and he walked like a zombie.

 

"I can't believe we did that to him," he whispered. Craig rolled his eyes. It was too late to feel guilty now. They'd made their choice. 

 

"I thought you hated him. You know after all that stuff he said at lunch."

 

Something flashed across Kyle's face. "I don't hate him. Or maybe I do. I don't know. It's- it's complicated. I mean I don't like him." Craig gazed at him impassively. "I don't! It's Cartman for gods' sakes."

 

Craig nodded. "I get it, dude."

 

"He'll never forgive me for this. He's going to kill all of us."

 

"That's true. But at least the girls will get over their shit."

 

"They better. This can't all have been for nothing. I can't-" Kyle trailed off, muttering into his coat. Craig made sure he got home, then drove to Tweek's house, speeding at least ten over the speed limit. Using the skills he'd picked up from Kenny, he scaled the roof, then crawled to Tweek's window, somehow making it there alive. He pounded on the glass, greeted by a muffled, "AH!" The window flew open, pushing a gust of warm air at Craig's face. They stared at each other for a moment, then Tweek lifted the window enough for Craig to slip in.

 

"Hey dude," he said. Tweek gave him a smile, and though it was hesitant it gave Craig hope that he hadn't entirely fucked things up yet.

 

"What are you doing here? How did the whole Cartman thing go?"

 

"It was shitty."

 

"Craig? Why are you here AH! not that I mind, but it's like three am." He shivered and sat down at the edge of his bed, cold despite the warmth of the room.

 

"I promised we'd hang out tonight."

 

Tweek's eyes were big enough to glow in the dark. "Really? So you came all the way over here?"

 

"I missed you," he admitted. It was strange, how Tweek unraveled him. There was a time when he wouldn't have been caught dead laying his emotions out for anyone, but then Tweek fell into his life and now he was made of I miss yous and grossness. The worst part was that he didn't really care. Tweek's twitchy grin was back on his face now.

 

"I missed you too." He patted the bed beside him and Craig sat. Tweek leaned forward and pushed their mouths together. Craig closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss, feeling Tweek's cold lips against his own warmer ones. It had been over a week, far too long, since they had kissed like this, their mouths open in more than just a peck, and Craig was hungry for him. They fell back onto the bed together, and Craig found his hands moving without his control, groping Tweek's arms, moving down to squeeze his ass. His cock gave a jump. "We have to be quiet," Tweek said as Craig pulled off his shirt.

 

"Yeah, yeah, quiet, okay," he said, biting Tweek's neck. Tweek gasped. Craig found himself grinding into Tweek's leg, desperate for some sort of stimulation. Tweek shivered against him, somehow so frail, and stronger than Craig at the same time. They lost the rest of their clothes, then Craig was on his knees next to the bed, taking Tweek's cock into his mouth. He licked the head, getting a shudder from his lover, then, without warning, took the whole thing into his mouth, all the way to the back of his throat. Tweek let out a loud 'nng," and his spidery hands twisted into Craig's hair, pushing his face down. He wrapped his hand around the base, working his hand and mouth in tandem, so that each part of Tweek's cock was touched by something. He sped up, feeling Tweek shaking all around him, until Craig's whole world was vibrating. 

 

"Stop, stop, stop," Tweek muttered suddenly, and Craig pulled away, concerned. 

 

"Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?" Tweek laughed, a little breathless.

 

"No, no, you're fine, you're perfect," he said, "I-ah! I'm just going to cum if you keep going like that. And I don't want to yet." Craig breathed a sigh of relief, and sat beside Tweek.

 

"Oh," he said. "Well. In that case." Tweek's lips pushed against his again, and Craig felt the soft underside of his tongue pressing against where his lips closed until he opened them more, letting their tongues touch together. He wasn't used to that feeling yet. And it still felt a little strange, but in a nice way. He found himself straining against his boxers, and reached out for Tweek's cock, stroking it gently, teasingly. Tweek's own hand found its way to Craig's crotch, and Craig gasped as it made contact. It wasn't fair, the strange surges of electricity that ran through him at the barest touch from someone else. He let out a low moan as Tweek stroked him. His hand was wet, from some unknown source, and every slide of it over his hard cock felt like heaven. They stayed like that for a while, just touching each other, soaking in the feeling of togetherness that bound them. 

 

"I want to fuck you," he whispered into Tweek's ear, every part of him registering the goosebumps that spread over Tweek's body at the words. Tweek nodded vigorously, pulling the rest of Craig's clothes off. "Here," Craig said, pulling a pillow close to Tweek's face, pushing him onto his stomach. "So you're quiet."

 

"AH! I can be quiet."

 

"Sure," Craig said with a grin. "But use the pillow for now. " Tweek muttered something obscene under his breath but Craig just laughed. "Lube?"

 

"Side table," Tweek murmured, looking over his shoulder at Craig, watching his every move. Craig lunged clumsily across the bed and grappled for the lube. He held it up in triumph and wormed his way back to Tweek, lubing up a finger as he did so. Without preamble he shoved it into Tweek, getting a noise out of him that was half shock, half pain. 

 

"Is that okay?" he asked. Tweek rolled his eyes.

 

"More,' he said, arching his hips back at Craig. Craig pistoned his finger in and out, slowly adding another one when he was sure he wouldn't tear Tweek. Tweek's breath caught as Craig curled his fingers up and brushed against the tiny bundle of nerves that made Tweek call out. He rubbed against it, again and again, and Tweek arched back in pleasure. "More," he gasped out. Craig pulled his fingers out, listening for the little whine of disappointent from Tweek before rubbing his cock up with lube.

 

"Shh," he said, supporting himself up over Tweek. He guided himself towards Tweek's open hole and pushed in with a groan. ""Fuck. How are you this tight every fucking time?" he breathed.

 

"Nnng," Tweek said, as if that was an answer. Craig began to thrust, losing himself in Tweek. He was surrounded by tight warmth and it was heaven. Below him, Tweek let out his gaspy moans, and instinctively Craig pushed his face gently into the pillow. The last thing they needed was to get caught. He reached under Tweek until his hand found something hard and hot, so that every thrust drove Tweek's cock into his hand. His hips began to twitch on their own, in erratic, uncontrollable thrusts, chasing down pleasure. Tweek's own hips bucked beneath him, desperate for more, more, more. He tried to slow down, tried to stave off the inevitable, but Tweek thrust his ass up to Craig once more and came, quiety for once, all over the sheets beneath him, sending Craig into his own orgasm. He came with a strangled gasp, biting his own hand to muffle the sound, pushing himself into Tweek twice more before the sensation became too much and he had to pull out.

 

He fell asleep with Tweek in his arms, curled around the blond boy's body. And that's how he woke, to the judgmental stares of both of Tweek's parents.


	20. Chapter 20

"Now boys," Mr. Tweak began. "I talked to PC principal this morning and he said that you've already talked about affirmative consent, so I'm not worried about that." Craig shot Tweek a guilty look. The smaller boy twitched. At least Mr. Tweak had let them get dressed before he started the lecture. "But what I don't like is you sneaking around doing the nono in my home." Tweek let out an AH! and Mr. Tweak handed him a cup of coffee. "So no sleepovers will be allowed, and I want the door open whenever you're alone in a room together."

 

"Yes sir," Craig mumbled, too embarrassed to look at him.

 

"Also, I don't know who the bottom is, and I don't care." He looked at Craig as though he had guessed. "But they need to make sure they're practicing proper hygiene or you'll both get sick."

 

"UGH! Dad! AH! Gross!"

 

"If you thought it was so gross, you wouldn't be doing it. You better be using protection. Now I never want to walk in on either of you naked again. Parents have feelings too and that was... a shock to be sure." Craig thought he was going to die. "Is that understood?"

 

"Yes, Mr. Tweak," Craig said. Tweek was glaring off away from his father as Mr. Tweak cleared his throat. 

 

"Yes," he shrieked. 

 

"Also, Craig, I've called your parents. I didn't want them to worry about you." Craig groaned. "Now, now, I know a cool parent wouldn't do that, but I'm just looking out for your best interests. Alright, I think that covers it." He smacked his hands together awkwardly. "You can go now. But please- just don't let me catch you again." They nodded, shame-faced, and walked out the door to Craig's car.

 

"Sorry, dude," Craig said. "I shouldn't have fallen aseep." 

 

"AH! It's okay. We nnng we both fell asleep." He twitched toward Craig, then smiled. "I'm really, really glad you came, Craig."

 

"I mean me too," Craig said. He couldn't resist. "I always like cumming."

 

"AH!! Fuck you, dude." 

 

"Yes you did."

 

"AND MY DAD KNOWS EVERYTHING," he moaned, smacking his head against the window. Craig grimaced.

 

"Oh well. At least neither of our parents will kill us. We've got it better than Butters."

 

~~

 

He ran into Trish and Butters almost as soon as they got to the school, and knew she had somehow found out from the way she was cackling. He flipped her off, choosing to speak to Butters exclusively. "Hey dude, how was your night."

 

"Oh, hey, Craig." Butters blushed. Dammit, he knew too. Did everyone know? "It was fine. I just, well, Trish and I watched the Voice. How was yours?"

 

"It was good." Trish snorted, so he flipped her off again.

 

"Oh I bet it was."

 

"Trish, I swear to god," he said wearily. Some days he could handle his sister, but after he'd already been chewed out by Tweek's dad, and was awaiting a chewing out from his own parents at home, it was just too much.

 

"I'm just saying. And anyways, mom's pissed but I think dad's kind of proud. You know him, I bet he snuck out to go fuck girls all the time."

 

"Great," Craig said. Tweek just rolled his eyes.

 

"Craig's parents can't be worse than mine," he told Butters. "Nng- how are your rents anyway, dude?"

 

"Oh, ya know," Butters said with a little shrug. "They're still awful sore at me. But I think my mom's coming around. I hope someday they can be as cool as yours are."

 

Tweek squeaked in protest, and opened his mouth to correct him, but then his jaw dropped. Craig turned to see what he was looking at, and found Cartman talking to Heidi. "Dude! What the fuck!" Tweek said.

 

"They look like ghosts."

 

"Well, at least he found someone to talk to," Craig reasoned. Then he chuckled. "Kyle's gunna be pissed."

 

"Oh he is," Kenny said, making all four of them jump. "But not at Cartman

 

"Jesus, dude! GAH! STOP DOING THAT."

 

"Sorry," Kenny said in a voice that made it clear he wasn't. "Cartman isn't skankhunt."

 

"He isn't?" Craig asked, his stomach falling.

 

"No," Kenny said. "Skankhunt was posting all over last night. When we were in the cabin and after too. It couldn't have been him." His eyes lit up with mischief. "Kyle's losing his shit."

 

"Well maybe- AH! Maybe he should be. You guys broke all his nnngg stuff and it wasn't even him? That sucks, dude! Poor Cartman!"

 

"Poor Cartman? I don't know what you boners are talking about, but I'm out of here." Tricia flipped them all off before skipping into the building.

 

"I know a friend who's good with electronics," Kenny said more seriously. "I took as many of the parts as I could to him. But we can pool some money together, worst case. It's not like he had that much to begin with."

 

Craig nodded. Butters, however, screwed up his face. "Aw, heck. Screw him anyways. He's done worse to every single one of us."

 

"Savage, babe," Kenny noted, throwing an arm around his shoulders like he was proud. "You're getting better at that." 

 

~~

 

Lunch was incredibly awkward. Cartman, instead of sitting with the rest of them, sat at a table with Heidi. Kyle glanced over at them every five or so seconds, looking incredibly guilty. Cartman didn't even look at them. Craig couldn't blame him, after what had happened. Whatever occasional conversation flickered up was quickly snuffed out as one or more of their eyes were drawn to Cartman and Heidi. "They're only talking because they're both off Twitter," Stan asked, glancing over at the pair. "Right? There's no way Heidi would-"

 

"No way," Kyle echoed. He picked up a bite of broccoli, then set it back down, making a green pyramid. "There's no way he'd ever go for her, dude."

 

"I didn't mean-"

 

"No way." They fell back into silence again. Craig's only consolation was that Tweek was no longer upset with him. He gripped his hand tightly under the table, trying to keep him from twitching too much. Awkwardness always made him especially twitchy. Craig had never been happier for lunch to be over, even as he saw Kyle making a beeline for Cartman. 

 

"Dude." Stan stared after his best friend. "Of every fucking person in the world. Cartman. I don't get it."

 

"Let it go," Craig said. "It isn't like anything's going to happen now anyways. Cartman's all over Heidi."

 

It was strange how Stan had worked his way into Craig's life, first through his friends but then slowly, gradually, by himself. He was still an arrogant douche bag, Craig reasoned, but less of one than he used to be. And his moral righteousness, which Craig used to hate so much, was kind of endearing. Tweek still didn't trust Stan, or like him much, but Clyde and Token had changed their minds about him too. 

 

"I just don't want him to get hurt, dude."

 

"No," Craig said, straight-faced. "You just think it's gross."

 

"It's not the gay thing," Stan rushed to assure him. 

 

"I know. It's the Cartman thing. But have you seen him lately? He's not exactly the same fat asshole he used to be." Craig cursed himself. It was none of his business. When did he become the guy that ran around defending people? Tweek's hand slipped back into his. Oh right. That was probably why.

 

"Still. Sick, dude." Stan wandered off toward the bathrooms, once again looking green.

 

"Want to-AH! come over after school?" Tweek asked.

 

"I wish I could. My dad is going to tear me a new asshole."

 

"Oh," Tweek said, his face falling. "Nnng I forgot!"

 

"Don't worry about it." They walked hand in hand down the hallway, and Craig was pleased to find there were less stares than there had been at first. "You should go with Token and Clyde. They're going to play football or something."

 

"AH! Okay," Tweek said, looking happier. They reached Craig's classroom and he gave Tweek a kiss goodbye. 

 

"Love you, babe," he said, not caring who was watching.

 

"Nnng I love you too, Craig. AH!" Tweek scampered off.

 

~~

 

Craig sat in his car in front of his house, putting off the moment he'd have to go inside. Tricia sat next to him, but Butters was off god knows where with Kenny. Craig was glad that he, at lest, wouldn't have to witness the coming storm. "Could you just fail history? Then they'll be more mad at you."

 

"I'm working on that," Tricia said grimly. "But I'm counting on you for cover." He raised his middle finger at her, and she responded with her own. "It won't be that bad, right?"

 

"I'm sure they'll just give me money and tell me how proud they are," Craig said sarcastically. Trish stuck out her tongue.

 

"They'll get over it. I mean what teenager doesn't have sex?"

 

"You don't," he said. "Right?"

 

"Hey, big bro, as far as you're concerned I'll die a virgin," she said with a shudder. They stared up at the house. "C'mon. The more you put it off the worse it's gunna be. You should just go get it over with." Craig frowned at her. Their dad's car was in the driveway, so he knew to expect the worst.

 

"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," he said flatly. Tricia rolled her eyes. "I will fear no evil for thou art with me."

 

"Don't you quote the fucking bible at me. Jesus. Butters is a bad influence on you." Craig sighed and opened the door, comforted by the fact that Tricia was with him. They wouldn't murder him if there was a witness, which was at least a little reassuring. Craig pushed the key into the lock, but the door flew open on its own, revealing his very angry-looking mother. 

 

"CRAIG ROBERT TUCKER," she shouted inches from his face, spraying bits of spit at him. "WHO THE HELL RAISED YOU? Now you think you can SNEAK OUT and have SEX? YOU ARE GROUNDED! FOR TWO WEEKS! And this isn't over-"

 

"Laura, at least let him into the house," his dad said, looking uncomfortable. His mom looked like she wanted to argue. Her blonde hair was sticking out in points around her face, and he hadn't ever really seen her this angry at him. At Tricia, sure, but not at him. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. Trish shot him a sympathetic look, then slinked away to her room. Craig followed his parents to the table.

 

"And I had to hear it from Richard fucking Tweek. When you didn't come home last night, we were worried sick! You need to be more responsible."

 

"Okay," he said. His dad rolled his eyes behind his mom's back.

 

"And Tweek is a nice young man. You need to be careful with him. Are you pressuring him into doing things he doesn't want to do?"

 

Craig smirked. He couldn't help himself. "No." 

 

"DID YOU JUST FLIP ME OFF, YOUNG MAN?"

 

"No." He had. His mother raised both of her middle fingers in the air and shook them in his face. 

 

"DO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?" Craig closed his eyes and channeled his inner stoic. If she thought he was taking this lightly, which he was, he'd be in even more trouble. 

 

"No."

 

"Well good. Go to your room. I don't want to look at your face." He grimaced and started up the stairs, followed by his father. When they reached his room, his dad stood in the doorway, looking awkward. 

 

"So you're finally giving it to him, are you, son?" he asked. Craig didn't answer. "I just want you to know, Craig, that I'm proud of you. I knew I didn't raise a bottom. And if you ever want to talk- if you ever have questions or concerns about sex, you can come to me, okay?" Craig found himself being pulled into a tight hug, stiff armed. "I'm just- I'm so happy for you. Here, take some money." His dad pushed a twenty into his hand and walked out, leaving a very confused Craig in his wake. 

 

Kyle called him later that evening. 

 

"Dude, can I talk to you?" he asked.

 

"Sure," Craig said, sighing. "What's up."

 

"I just- It's the whole Cartman thing. It's really bothering me."

 

"Kenny said he's getting someone to try to put everything back together," Craig said, guilt swimming around in his stomach again.

 

"It's not that. Well, not just that." Craig waited. "Do you really think he's going out with Heidi?"

 

"I don't do relationship advice," Craig said, and moved to hang up.

 

"Craig, please, I don't have anyone else to talk to about this. You're the only one who could understand." Craig sighed again, rubbing his forehead.

 

"I don't know what to say, Kyle."

 

"Well- I don't know what to do. I think I really messed things up between us."

 

"You think smashing up all of his electronics made him like you less?"

 

"Dude, don't be a dick." 

 

"Right. Well, I think you messed things up. But you didn't want anything to happen anyways, did you?" He was trying to give Kyle an out, a way to pretend he wasn't head over heels for Cartman but Kyle, of course, didn't take it.

 

"Sure he was an asshole, going around and telling everybody what happened. But, that's Cartman you know? I should have expected it. I- I didn't know that freaking out would make him get a girlfriend."

 

Craig groaned. "Heidi probably has nothing to do with you."

 

"But what if she does?"

 

"I'm hanging up now," Craig said, and hung up. Kyle tried to call him again, twice, but Craig just rolled his eyes and didn't answer. With the day he'd had, he wasn't surprised when Kenny showed up at his window. He opened it just a crack, just enough to say "No" loudly enough for Kenny to hear, then he shut it again. Kenny pounded on the glass, and, knowing Kenny was more stubborn even than he was, he opened it again, this time enough for Kenny to slip into his room.

 

"Hey dude," Kenny said. "Your parents asleep?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"Well I'm not here for you so you can relax." Craig didn't relax. he put his hands on his hips, offended though he couldn't say why. "I'm just sneaking down to see Butters. Your window wells have spiders in them."

 

"Fine," Craig said, throwing up his hands. "Just use my room like a subway station. That's totally cool, dude."

 

"Fuck off with that attitude," Kenny said, flipping him off before he had a chance. "Oh, while I have you here. I think I figured something out."

 

"What?"

 

"I think we're connected. I've been at the library doing some research into the Cult of Cthulhu. They talk about what I think I am. The dark one. But they also mention something else. The furry one."

 

Craig stared at him nonplussed. "Dude, fuck you."

 

"No, this isn't a joke. I'm serious. Remember when you controlled all those guinea pigs? Got them to stop? And what about Stripe?" Stripe the third squeaked, like he heard his name. "You've got a way with them. I don't know what it means yet, but we're linked, Craig. We're linked together whether you like it or not."

 

"No," Craig said. "You're a psycho, Kenny." He flipped his friend off. Then he sighed. It wasn't Kenny's fault he was in such a shitty mood. "Sorry."

 

"It's fine," Kenny said, putting an arm on Craig's shoulder. "I know it's a lot to process. But if I get a lead, will you come with me to figure this out?"

 

"Yeah," he said nodding. "Sure. If Tweek can come too."

 

"Well we couldn't go off without our twinks. Speaking of-" Kenny let go of Craig's shoulder and walked to his bedroom door. Craig shook his head.

 

"You're a dick."

 

"You would know. You're the dick expert." Craig rolled his eyes into the back of his head. When he turned back to the door, Kenny was gone. 

 

"Stop doing that," he hissed into the hallway. He wasn't surprised when there was no answer. Unwilling to deal with more intrusions into his silence, or more unexpected guests, Craig put his phone on silent and went to bed.


	21. Chapter 21

"The fucking Asian kids are drawing me too now," Kenny lamented a few weeks later.  "Me and Butters."

 

"I don't get it, dude," Kyle said.  "I mean why would girls want to draw guys being together?  Shouldn't they be drawing girls and girls  Or girls and guys?  It doesn't make sense!"

 

"Girls are fucking weird," Stan said.  "If you've ever dated one, you would know that."

 

"Yeah," Butters said.  "Why, those bitches are so dumb, they don't even know how to make any real mother-fucking money, do you know what I am saying?"

 

"What's gotten into you lately, Butters?" Craig asked.  Kenny grinned and made a vulgar hand motion.  Butters blushed.

 

"Well, I'm sorry, Craig.  I guess I'm just a little angry- well, about the Asian girls and all.  I didn't mean to lash out at ya."  Craig nodded.  He remembered how crazy he'd gotten after the Asian girl drawings, and didn't blame Butters one bit.  Kyle stared at Cartman and Heidi all of lunch again.  He was pining, pining in public and so blatantly that Craig pitied the hell out of him.  Not that he wasn't even more annoying than ever.  He asked Craig's advice constantly, and Craig found himself too sympathetic to ignore him.  Cartman was clearly over the whole event.  Maybe he had never been into Kyle in the first place.  But now he practically had his hands down Heidi's shirt, even in public.  And no one talked to either of them.  What was the point?  They weren't even on twitter.

 

"What are you doing for break, dude?" Stan asked.

 

"Sitting home and watching a lot of TV," he replied.

 

"Cool.  My family is going skiing on the second.  Do you want to-"

 

"No."  Craig didn't ski, and sitting home watching TV with Tweek sounded like the perfect vacation.  Stan looked hurt.

 

"You don't always have to be a dick, dude."

 

"Sorry," Craig said with a sigh.  "I just don't ski.  I slide on my ass down the mountain.  It doesn't have anything to do with you."

 

"It's fine," Stan said.  He bit his lip, then scratched at his ear.  "Will you keep an eye on Kyle, then?  He's been acting weird.  I don't know if it's Cartman or what, but he hasn't brushed his hair in like a week.  And you know how proud he is of that Jew fro."

 

"I know."  Craig considered.  Stan was an arrogant ass.  He still was and he always would be.  But behind that, he did seem to care about Kyle and Wendy, and maybe even Craig to a lesser extent.  "Okay."

 

"Okay?" Stan said, relief in his eyes.  "Thanks, Craig.  Really- thanks."

 

"No need to blow me over it."  He sighed again, wondering if he was going soft, and followed the trail of people to his next class.

 

~~

When Craig was walking to his car, he saw something very strange to the side of the trail by Stark's Pond.  It just looked like... Well a glimmer.  Craig frowned at it.  His fingers found their way to his phone, and, a bit too excited at finally being the one with all the surprises, texted Kenny.  He waited for three, maybe four minutes, before Kenny arrived, joining him at the head of the trail.

 

"There it is," he said, pointing.

 

"Wow.  Isn't that just the damnedest thing?" Kenny asked, pulling his orange parka hood down.  "What do you think it is?"

 

"Dude," Craig said, deadpan.  "All I can think about is that Stephen King book with the Shining?  I'm hoping we don't run into giant hedge monsters."  
  


"Uh," Kenny said, staring at him as though he'd gone insane.  "Yeah, dude, I'll keep an eye out.  In the meantime, what do we do about this?"

 

"I dunno," Craig said.  "Poke it?"  
  


Kenny shrugged.  "Alright."  He picked up a stick from the ground and jammed it at the strange patch of glimmering light.  Instantly, a shot of electric sparks traveled from the stick into Kenny's body.  He convulsed three, four times, then collapsed onto the ground.

 

"Oh my god," a voice from behind him cried.  "They killed Kenny!"

 

"You bastards!"  Kyle and Stan appeared on either side of him.

 

"What are you guys doing here?"

 

"I thought I saw something," Stan said, shrugging.  "And I didn't want to check it out alone.  Wow.  It's weirder up close, dude."

 

"Did you poke it?" Kyle asked.  Craig nodded.

 

"Yeah, that's what got Kenny."  Stan nodded seriously.

 

"So we can't poke it.  What do we do?"

 

"I don't know, maybe we..."  Craig trailed off, eyes locking on something ahead of them.  "Is that another one?"

 

"There's another one, dude," Kyle said, sounding far too excited in Craig's opinion.  "We've got to go check it out?"

 

Craig rolled his eyes, once again wondering what the hell had become of him.  There had been a time that he never would have gone to check out some crazy mysterious floating distortion.  There was a time when he had rolled his eyes at Stan and his friends for being so stupid, so cocky, as to rush into danger without even thinking about the consequences.  And now, here he was following the guy who he'd once hated towards some stupid new mystery simply because he was curious.  He wasn't sure why, but he blamed Kenny.  They trekked to the new spot of light, and it was farther away than it looked.  Finally they reached it, and huddled around it, afraid to get too close.

 

"It looks just like the other one.  Like a glitch."

 

"This is South Park," Craig said.  "You guys remember that, right?  It's probably like some kind of super aids."

 

"Craig, it's not super aids," Stan said, rolling his eyes.

 

"We don't know that."

 

"There's another one," Kyle yelped, pointing.  Craig squinted.  He could barely make it out, just a tiny hint of wrongness at the shore of the lake.  He rolled his eyes.

  
  
"Well then.  I'll die if we don't check it out."

 

"Craig, I swear," Stan said, taking a sip from his water bottle.  "If you're going to be a dick, you should go home."  Craig flipped him off, but made no move to leave.  They walked down to the lake together.  The one good thing, Craig supposed, that had come out of more horrifying death and mystery was that Kyle seemed distracted.  When they reached the third glimmer, Craig couldn't hold back a gasp.  It was bigger than the other two, and there was something inside it.  Something swimming in the very center.  He couldn't make out what it was, not with the rest of the air shimmering around it, but he was certain it was there, and just as certain that he'd never wanted anything else as much in his life.

 

"Do you see it?" Kyle asked.  His voice was breathy, almost desperate.  Craig merely nodded, throat dry.  Kyle reached out, slowly, hesitantly, then moved his hand towards the unknown thing.  Craig watched him do it, curious, wondering if what happened to Kenny would happen to him too.  Stan grabbed Kyle's hand and practically threw him backwards, eyes wide with fear.

 

"Dude!" he said.  "What the fuck?"  Kyle stared up at them with striken eyes.

 

"I-I don't know what happened," he said.  "I just- there was something there.  Something in the glimmer.  I needed it."

 

"You needed it enough to fry for it?" 

 

"No.  Thanks, Stan, I don't know what I was thinking."  Stan nodded, and offered Kyle a hand up.  Craig stared at them. The spell had been broken, but who knew how long that would last?

 

"Should we go back?" he asked, knowing what the answer would be.

 

"No," Stan said.  "We have to figure this out."  Craig rolled his eyes, but didn't argue.  They stood for a moment, watching the glimmering air flicker in and out.  Craig felt himself growing light headed, and turned back toward the lake.  The last thing he needed was to get hypnotized by that stupid thing.  But then he saw the next glimmer and his jaw dropped.

 

"Guys?  We may have a problem."  Stan and Kyle followed his gaze to the glimmering part of the lake in front of them.  "There's no way we can get there."

 

"What if we- no," Kyle said.  Stan took another swig from his water bottle.  

 

"It's too cold to swim.  And we don't know what's out there."

 

"Does anybody own a boat?" Craig asked.  The other two shook their heads.  "Well fuck."

 

"Perhaps I can help."  Craig jumped, and Stan let out a shriek.  They turned to see who had spoken, but at first Craig couldn't see anything.  "I'm down here."  He looked lower down, and saw the strangest little thing he had ever seen.  It was a person, or at least it looked like one, but it couldn't have been more than a foot tall.  It wore a red hat with a white puff ball on top, but the rest of its clothes seemed composed of underwear, sewn together to fashion a rough shirt and pants.  It had a beard, white as the snow around them, that nearly touched the ground and it was staring at them with a wide grin.  "Never seen an underpants gnome before, eh?"

 

"Um," Craig said, fishing for words.  "No."

 

"I'm Simon," he squeaked, offering up his tiny hand.  Stan knelt down and shook it with two fingers.  "You boys have stumbled across something that could change the course of South Park's fate forever."

 

"Do you mean the glitches?" Kyle asked.  The gnome nodded.

 

"Yeah, the glitches.  They're portals."

 

"Portals to where?"

 

The gnome snorted.  "More like portals  _from_  where.  We don't know."  He shrugged.  "But we do know the little bastards popping out of them are hell-bent on ruining Christmas.  And Santa's got us hunting em down.  He's giving us five pairs of underwear a pop, so you know it's fucking serious."  Craig exchanged a glance with his companions.  It was amusing to hear swear words coming out of a tiny voice, and despite the situation he had to choke back a laugh.

 

"Do you think he'd pay us if we hunted them down?" Stan asked.

 

Simon shrugged.  "Sure, you're big enough that you'd probably do better than we are.  And it's Santa.  I'm sure he's got a shit load of presents for kids good enough to help save fucking Christmas."

 

Kyle and Stan stared at him, like they were waiting for him to protest, to say how dangerous and stupid it was to hunt down unknown inter-dimensional beings for money, but he just shrugged.  "Alright."

 

"Alright?" Kyle asked.  "You're in?"

 

"I'm in," he said. "So what are these things?" 

 

"You'll know em when you see em.  Come on, we've got a whole fuckin town to purge."  Simon took off, moving far more quickly than he should have been able to at his size, rushing down the trail, occasionally darting into rabbit holes, then reappearing on the other side.  Craig found himself jogging to keep up, and saw Stan and Kyle do the same.  Finally, blessedly, the gnome stopped, holding out a hand to stop the humans.  "Look, there's one," he whispered, pointing to a bush up ahead.  

 

At first, Craig didn't see anything.  It was just a normal bush, covered with clumps of white snow.  But then one of the snowballs moved, and he realized it wasn't a snowball at all.  It was a fluffy little creature, with huge green eyes set against its face.  Craig couldn't see any evidence of a nose, or a mouth, but the eyes were captivating, seemingly full of every kindness that had graced the world, all at once.  They looked into the core of Craig's soul, and didn't judge him for it.  He wanted to take the little guy home with him, and protect him from the evil gnomes that wanted to kill them for underwear.  And then it flew at them, with bumblebee wings that made a buzzing sound, and the eyes narrowed into little slits.  

 

"ARRRRRGH!" Simon cried, jumping up at the flying snowball.  He hefted up a long knitting needle, and swung it at the beast, who yelped and flew backwards.  He swung again, with a last jump that seemed to take all his effort, and this time, the needle swung true, impaling the little ball of fluff.  A thick green substance leaked from where the needle pierced it, coating the silver with slime.

 

"Sick, dude," Kyle said.  He wrinkled his nose.  The snowball's eyes flopped closed, leaving only fluff surrounding a pair of wings that looked too small to hold its weight.  

 

"There are hundreds of them," the gnome said, solemn.  "They feed on Christmas joy, then they eat everything to do with Christmas itself.  They won't rest until the town is consumed."

 

"So... you kill them?" Craig asked.  The gnome nodded.  "Okay.  If Santa says it's okay."

 

"No.  No way.  We're not doing this."

 

"Oh come on, Kyle.  We've got to do it.  It's the only way to save Christmas."  Stan scratched at the bridge of his nose.

 

"Well if you're helping we need to get going.  We've got to get as many as possible for Santa's reward.  You- kid, come with me."  He grabbed Kyle's arm, turning back to Craig and Stan.  "I'll make sure he doesn't do any damage."  Kyle let himself get dragged away, occasionally pulling back to look at Stan in protest.

 

"Should we get going?" Stan asked.  Craig shrugged.  He might not hate Stan anymore, but he certainly wasn't thrilled to be paired up alone with him.  

 

"Where do you think they are?"

 

"The gnome said they feed off Christmas, right?"  
  
  


"Right." 

 

"So probably everywhere with Christmas shit, dude."

 

"Right," Craig said.  He looked at Stan for a moment thinking.  Then the idea hit him, at the same time Stan's face lit up.  "The tree in City Park!" they said in unison.

 

"Shit, dude, we've got to hurry.  Can you drive us?"  Craig didn't answer, he just started off towards the parking lot.  His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, chagrined to see it was his mother calling.

 

"Hey mom," he said.

 

"Craig, honey, your sister told me you're not home.  You're not off doing anything you shouldn't be are you?"  Craig groaned internally.  He had just gotten ungrounded.

 

"No mom."  He glanced at Stan and rolled his eyes.  "I'm um.  I'm studying.  With Stan Marsh."

 

"Oh." Her voice was heavy with relief.  "He's a nice boy.  Alright, well be home in time for dinner."

 

"Kay."  He hung up, rushing to his car.  Stan hopped in the front seat, and he started the ignition, feeling more than a little apprehensive.  The ride was incredibly awkward.  At first they simply sat in silence, which was just fine with him, but then Stan tried to start a conversation.

 

"So," Stan said, fiddling with his backpack.  "Do you like bread?"

 

Craig turned to look at him, nearly crashing into the stop sign in front of them.  "Um.  Sure.  Do you?"

 

"Yeah."  Stan stared out the window, taking another long sip from his water bottle.  For a moment, Craig could have sworn he caught a whiff of whiskey.  "I like sourdough bread best.  I don't like rye."

 

"No," Craig agreed, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.  "Rye sucks."

 

They drifted back into silence for a moment, then Stan turned back to him.  "I don't like wheat bread either."

 

Craig cleared his throat, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.  "No, fuck wheat bread."

 

Stan fiddled with his backpack straps again, frowning.  "But white bread's okay."

 

"Yeah.  Good for sandwiches."

 

"Have you ever tried to make bread?"

 

"No."

 

"Me either."  Craig drove faster, blowing through a red light with a prayer he wouldn't hit anything.  Stan seemed unperturbed.  "I hate really soft bread too.  Like if it falls apart in my mouth it's no good."

 

He swallowed.  "Yeah.  That's the worst."

 

"I'm glad you agree."  Craig pulled into the parking lot, desperate to get out of the car.  The cold air had his hair retreating back into his hat.  He searched about the ground for a weapon, settling on a long pine branch that must have fallen off.  

 

"Grab a stick, dude."

 

"Good call."  Stan grabbed another branch from the ground, and together they set off towards the large tree, decorated with hundreds of decorations and lights, with hundreds of flying snowballs orbiting around it.  "You were right," he said, pointing.  Craig nodded, brandishing his stick and wondering if the last conversation he would ever have would be with Stan Marsh about bread.

 

"So what's the plan?"

 

Stan shrugged.  "Hit em with sticks.  Kill em.  Get them to leave South Park for somewhere else."

 

"Alright."  Craig ran toward the base of the tree, where several people sat talking, not realizing anything was wrong.  "MOVE," he yelled, trying to channel Tweek's  impressive talent for emoting.  It must have worked; they looked up in alarm at the skinny boys with sticks running towards them and scattered, some of them clearly recording the spectacle on their phones.  Craig tried not to care.  He, instead, focused on a little snowball maybe a foot from the ground, hanging on the tree eating an ornament like it was candy.  He smacked it hard, watching it hit the ground and spew out little fountains of the green goo.  For half a second he felt bad, then he examined the tree more closely.  Half the ornaments were gone, eaten by the things maybe, and the tree itself was wilting, far before its time.

 

Craig smacked down another, and some of the others stopped eating the tree to turn and stare at him accusingly.  He kept smacking, not knowing what else to do, taking down three more.  

 

"Dude, look out!" Stan called.  Craig looked up.  A swarm of snowballs gathered in the air, huge green eyes narrowed, silently flurrying around Craig and Stan.  Craig backed away from the tree and stood back to back with Stan.  All at once, the snowballs descended on them, a wave of white, attacking them.  Craig swung his stick wildly, knocking many to the ground, only to be bombarded by more of them.  They flew at his face, bumping into him with their furry, surprisingly heavy little bodies.  He knocked down more and more, luckily they weren't hard to kill.  He heard Stan swearing beside him.  One of them got through his swinging sword, but this one didn't just knock into him, it latched onto him with razor sharp teeth.  He let out a yelp of surprise, and let go of his stick on instinct.  A swarm of little fluff balls were on it instantly, chewing it down to nothing.

 

"I lost the stick," he yelled to Stan over the deafening sound of buzzing that hovered around them.  With his fists, he fought, feeling more and more of them biting him.  Stan didn't answer, no doubt preoccupied with his own part of the swarm.  Craig fought as hard as he could, but there were too many.  He closed his eyes, a million tiny needles baring into him.  Was this really how he was going to go?  Eaten by fluff?  A bright light shined through his eyelids, and he opened his eyes again.  Tweek came into view through the white, holding a blaring stereo over his head.  

 

 _The first Noel,_  the speaker blared.   _The angels did say..._   The fluff balls let go of him and one by one, the swarm lessened, swooping around the new sounds curiously.  They bit at the speaker, green eyes opening innocently, and flocked around Tweek, not hurting him, more occupied with the speaker.  He realized that the speaker was lit up, some light shining on it brightly, and he turned to see Butters holding a spotlight pointed straight at it.  Kyle and the gnome ran up, huffing, with nets in their hands.  Kyle tossed one to Craig, who started swinging it around, catching six snowballs in it and throwing them in the huge cage made of candy-canes that Kyle dragged behind him.

 

"How did you find us?" he yelled to Tweek over the music. 

 

"Santa," Tweek yelled back.  

 

The cleanup didn't take long.  The little creatures, having found a new target, were docile enough and let themselves be herded into the candy-cage, chewing at the bars with unseen mouths, finally harmless.  Craig threw the last four into the cage, then sighed.  They were pretty cute, when they weren't trying to eat him.  Tweek appeared beside him and gripped his hand tightly.

 

"I'm glad you're okay, dude," he said.  Craig grinned at him.

 

"Thanks for coming.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I-I just didn't want you to get hurt."  Tweek rolled his eyes, but didn't let go of his hand.

 

"I figured it was something stupid like that."

 

"I'm sorry."  Tweek shrugged.  Butters ran up to them, wearing a Santa hat and covered in bits of white fur.

 

"Hey there, fellas.  Boy am I sure glad Santa got to us in time.  You could have been really hurt without us."

 

"Thanks for coming, Butters," Stan said.  Kyle and Craig mumbled their thanks too, and Craig looked around at Stan, who was in the same shape he was in.  Tiny teeth marks covered his arms, where the fabric of his clothing had been ripped to shreds.  His hair hung in disarray over his eyes, and white fur covered most of the rest of him, making him look like some abominable snowman.  He bit back a laugh.

 

"I'm going to get Santa," Tweek said.  Butters and Kyle raced off with him, leaving Craig once more alone with Stan.  They looked at each other, and Craig wondered if Stan felt as suddenly shy as he did.

 

"You're pretty good with that thing," he said, pointing to Stan's stick.

 

"Oh," Stan said, throwing it to the ground.  "Hey, you were too.  That was pretty fun-"

 

"In a fucked up South Park way."  

 

Stan smiled.  "Exactly."  Craig smiled back, brushing off a wad of fur from his lower lip.  

 

"How embarrassing, though.  We got saved by Butters and an Underwear gnome."

 

Stan groaned.  "Oh god, dude, the guys are going to give us so much shit."

 

"We deserve it," Craig said.  He couldn't help the grin that slid onto his face, probably a result of his relief.  They were alive.  The floating cotton balls hadn't gotten them this year.  In the sky, Santa flew down in his sleigh, full of presents, waving at them.  The crowd that had gathered ran towards him, waving their arms around.  "Should we go be heroes?"

 

"If it gets me the new Assassin's Creed game, I'm willing," Stan said.  The two set off together, not exactly friends, but something more than they had been.  Brothers from the war, Craig thought wryly.  Up ahead, Kyle and Butters were laughing together and Tweek stood apart, grin on his face.  The Christmas music wove through the air, covering them all with the warm melodies.  And like they were in some stupid Christmas romantic comedy, snow began to fall, making the tree behind them whole again.

 


	22. Chapter 22

"Come on, babe," Craig said, thrusting himself into Tweek.  His movements were becoming erratic, uncontrolled.  He pulled at Tweek's cock with a desperation.  "Come for me.  Come on."

 

"Nnng I'm close- close," Tweek squeaked.  Craig pistoned his hips again, feeling his own release right at the verge of bursting out.  He held it back, with every ounce of self control he had.  Tweek shuddered and came, twitching into Craig's hand, and Craig couldn't hold it back any longer.  He came, gasping at the intensity of it as he slowly thrust in once, twice more, savoring the feeling of Tweek's tight heat around him before it became too much.  He pulled out, and collapsed onto the bed, dragging Tweek to his chest.  

 

"That was nice," he said, still trying to get his breath back.

 

"Nnng nice?" Tweek asked, pulling himself up to look at Craig.  "Nice?  That's not what you say about good sex!"

 

"What should I say?"

 

"I don't know! Literally anything else! Nice is what old ladies say to each other after knitting club."  Craig snorted.

 

"Sorry, babe.  It was nice.  It was fun."  Tweek rolled his eyes, but let Craig curl around him and nuzzle his face into Tweek's shoulder.  A few strands of thin blond hair tickled at his nose.  "You're sexy?"

 

"Take away the question mark and that one works," Tweek grumbled.  Craig grinned into his soft skin.  

 

"Oh come on, you know I think you're sexy."

 

"I know," Tweek said sighing.  "You're sexy too.  But god dammit, Craig, sometimes you're so unromantic."

 

"What can I say?" Craig asked.  "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."  Tweek hit him playfully.

 

"This is better when you don't talk."  Craig's smile widened, and he hugged Tweek more tightly to him.  They sighed in unison, then giggle again.  Craig nestled up against him, content.  His eyes began to close and his limbs grew heavy, but a knock at the window woke him.  He groaned as Tweek moved  away from him.  "We should get that."

 

"It's just Kenny.  He can fuck off."

 

"Put some clothes on."  Groaning, Craig threw on a pair of sweat pants, thanking his past self for remembering to close the curtains this time.  Tweek's clothes were already back on, and he opened the curtains to reveal, as expected, a disheveled looking Kenny, with hair sticking up at all angles and a shit-eating grin on his face.

 

"Don't let him in," Craig implored, but Tweek shrugged at him before opening the window.  The cold air rushed in, aiming straight for Craig's bare chest.  He grimaced.

 

"Hey guys, what's going on?"

 

"We were just having a nice night," Craig said.  "And then you showed up."

 

"Hey," Kenny said.  "For somebody who just got me killed, those are harsh words."  Craig simply glared at him.  "I have a good reason this time, I swear."

 

"What?  To avoid the spiders in Tweek's stairwell?"

 

"No."  Kenny shook his head.  "We sprayed those.  I don't need your room for that."

 

"Then what's up."

 

"I found out more about the furry one."  

 

Tweek started.  "The furry one?  What's the furry one?"

 

"Your boyfriend is," Kenny said in his gravely Mysterion voice.

 

"No," Craig said emphatically.  "No, I'm not."

 

Tweek looked from one to the other.  "I'm going to go home before my parents-AH! Realize I'm missing."

 

"No, babe, come on," Craig said, glaring at Kenny.  "Stay.  This won't take long.  It's just Kenny's weird-ass conspiracy theories."

 

"I love you, Craig," Tweek said, kissing him on the cheek.  "But I'm not into you and Kenny's weird superhero shit.  I'll see you tomorrow."

 

"Tweek, it's Kenny's weird superhero shit!"  Tweek merely raised an eyebrow, like he was seeing right through him, and slipped out the window.

 

"Bye Tweek," Kenny called.

 

"Bye," Tweek's muffled voice said.  Craig flipped Kenny off.

 

"Hey, buddy, at least you got laid first," Kenny said.  Craig's other hand joined his first, and he hoped Kenny was at least a little offended.

 

"So what new Cthulhu shit did you figure out?" he asked, sighing.  

 

"'That is not dead which can eternal lie, and in strange eons, even death may die.'  It's a couplet.  It's from a book called the Necronomicon."

 

"What's that?"

 

"I thought it was fictional," Kenny said, hopping into the room.  He began to pace, clearly eager to unload his knowledge on the one person who might understand.  "H. P. Lovecraft mentioned it in his books, but he always claimed it was fictional.  But it's not."

 

"How do you know?" Craig said, interested despite his protests.

 

"You know the goth kids?  They managed to get a few of the original pages.  I thought it was all bullshit.  But then I had Mafesto check out the age of the pages.  They're thousands of years old, dude."

 

"Holy shit," Craig said, crossing his arms.  "So- so what?  Even death may die?  What the hell does that mean?"

 

"No one knows.  Hell if I do.  Some of the pages mention the Old Ones.  I-I don't know for sure but I think- this sounds fucking crazy, dude-"

 

"I've seen you die like four times now," Craig said.  "I sound crazy too.  Go on."

 

"Okay."  Kenny took a deep breath.  "I think I'm one of the Old Ones.  And I think you are too.  Well- one of their distant cousins.  The-"

 

"Furry ones?  Come on, Kenny, there has to be a better name than that even if-"

 

"Do you have any Peruvian ancestry?"

 

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

 

"Well, do you?"

 

"Yes."

 

"The Cult of Cthulhu was active for a while there, dude.  Remember those giant guinea pigs you had some power over?  That's probably why.  The followers of Cthulhu created them.  And only an Old One, well the Peruvian version of an old one, a Furry One, could control them."

 

"So?"

 

"So we show up in Peru and you happen to stumble across a prophecy where you control guinea pigs?  It's too big of a coincidence.  And- well, you've always had guinea pigs as pets."  Craig hugged his arms close to him and sighed.  

 

"Why do you get to be something badass?  My power is over fucking guinea pigs?"

 

"Not just that," Kenny said.  "It's like- You'd have some of the same powers, if I'm right.  Like you could shape shift and shit too."

 

"That's less lame."

 

"Right."  Kenny sat on Craig's bed, staring at him intently.  "So we have to get the original Necronomicon."

 

"God dammit, Kenny," Craig said, finding himself pacing.  "Why is it that you can get me to do all this crazy shit?  Even Tweek can't lure me off to fucking hunt down an ancient book, and-"

 

"Oh, just wait till I tell you where it is," Kenny said, his eyes shimmering with amusement.  "We're going to the French Catacombs."

 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Craig asked, trying to keep his tone neutral and failing.  He hated himself for it, but he was excited.  "How the hell did it end up in France?  How the hell are  _we_ going to get to France?"

 

"Because some rich dead guy bought it and insisted on taking it to his grave.  I haven't worked all the kinks out yet," Kenny admitted.  "But I was thinking spring break.  It's the next time we've got off, and a week should be enough shouldn't it?"

 

"A week to hunt down the grave of a dead guy and steal a dusty old book so that we can know why I control guinea pigs and you can't die," Craig said, deadpan.  "Well that'll be fucking easy to explain to my parents."

 

"Right?"  Kenny grinned.  "Well I'll let you get some sleep.  But I'm glad you're in.  This would be shitty to do alone."  Kenny headed for his bedroom door and he let out a sign of protest.  Kenny paused for just a moment with his hand on the handle.  "I lied about the spider spray."  Then he disappeared into the hallway.

 

~~

 

Winter break was a haze of sex and sleep.  It was everything Craig had wanted it to be.  For two full weeks, he forgot about Cthulhu and immortality, he forgot about Stan and Cartman, and he lost himself in Tweek.  He couldn't have asked for a better break.  And Kyle had been there, weaving through it too, because Craig kept his promise to Stan.  Kyle didn't really seem to need him, or to need distractions in general, but he played along, mostly Craig just played Overwatch with him, but he at least pretended he was over the whole Cartman thing.  And Hell, maybe he was.  Craig didn't particularly care either way.  But he was sadder than usual when the break was over, and he had to return to school.  Tricia woke him up the first morning back, shaking him vigorously until he woke up.

 

"Craig, get your ass up! I don't want to be late."  He dressed, his sister yelling at him from behind his bedroom door all the while.  "Craig we need to leave now!"  
  


He flipped her off through the door, almost positive she was doing the same for him, then grabbed his backpack and finally made his way to the car, much to Trish's relief.  "What do you have going on that's so important it makes you want to go to school?" he asked.  "A boy?"  He waited a moment, getting no response.  "A girl?"

 

"No, stupid.  Neither.  And I like boys, for the record."  Craig shrugged, then waited.  Tricia finally sighed.  "Will you start the damn car already?"  
  


"Sure," he said, making no move to do so.  "Just as soon as you tell me what's up."

 

"God, I hate you," Tricia said, crossing her arms.  "Don't make fun of me, alright?  It's this stupid club.  I don't have a first period this semester so I'm doing volunteer work for the food bank."

 

"Failed history?"

 

"Please for the love of god don't tell mom and dad.  I've been putting it off."

 

Craig nodded, starting the ignition.  "Your secret's safe with me.  But you know you should be paying attention in that class, right?"  She flipped him off.  "I'm just saying."

 

"I know," she said.  Butters ran up to the car, waving his arms wildly.  Tricia looked at Craig, eyes a mirror of the same guilt Craig was feeling.  "He's so damn quiet."

 

"We almost forgot him."  Butters opened the backdoor, face red from the cold and exertion.  "Hey Butters.  Trish is making us leave early."

 

"Hey guys," Butters said, smiling.  "Boy, am I glad to see you! I was worried I'd missed my ride, and I'd get grounded again."

 

"You live with us now, remember?  You don't get grounded for stupid shit," Tricia said.  Butters' smile grew soft.  He had seemed happy enough since unofficially joining their little family, and he loved when Trish or Craig acknowledged it.  Craig pulled out of the driveway, but Butters cleared his throat, wincing.  A bright orange parka appeared from the side of the house, and Craig turned to Butters in disbelief. 

 

"Are you serious?  Kenny stayed the night?  When did you grow balls, Butters?"

 

"I-I, uh.  I'm sorry, Craig.  He was just really sleepy, is all.  I didn't want him to be all cold walking back or nothin."  He worked his beanie between his hands.

 

"It's fine," Craig said automatically.  "You don't have to apologize.  I'm impressed."

 

Tricia tapped her fingers against the airbag, eyebrows drawn together on her forehead.  As Kenny opened the door, she turned to glare at him.  "Hey guys," Kenny said with a grin.

 

"Hey dude," Craig said, finally pulling out of the driveway.  "Where was Karen last night?"

 

"She had a sleepover," Kenny said through his hood.  "Fuck I hate the cold.  I'm not taking this jacket off again till spring."

 

"I hope you don't take the boots off either.  They're rank enough as it is," Tricia said, sticking her tongue out.  Kenny flipped her off, and she turned away, unhappy but appeased.

 

"Do you want a ride home too, dude?  My mom owes me gas money anyway."

 

"Sure, thanks, Craig.  Cool with you, Trish?"

 

"He'd make me walk if I said no," Tricia said, dramatically sighing and throwing her head against the head rest.  "My life is a Greek tragedy."

 

"Yeah, and you're Charybdis."

 

"Fuck you, Craig.  At least choose a pretty monster."

 

~~

 

He barely survived the day.  He was stuck on Kenny's mystery, and their teacher droning on and on about limits did nothing to help that.  As soon as the last bell rang, he ran outside, hoping to catch Kenny before he left.  He squinted into the crowds, looking for orange, but he saw nothing.  Disappointed, he almost walked straight to his car, but a hand gripped his shoulder, and he jumped six inches in the air.  "Kenny," he said, keeping his voice deadly calm.  "If you do that again, you are going to get shanked."

 

"Sure, sure, " Kenny agreed.  "Thanks for the ride, dude."  Craig nodded. 

 

"Sure.  Trish has some sports shit or another, so it's just us and Butters."

 

"Sweet," Kenny said.  "So, any idea how we're going to pay to get to France?"

 

"No," Craig said, rubbing his forehead.  "No fucking clue.  What about you?"

 

"Not yet, but I'm working on it.  Too bad neither of us can teleport, amirite?"

 

"Too bad.  Better start collecting pennies."

 

"Maybe we could fundraise."

 

"Oh yeah?  'Hey Everyone.  Support two kids with superpowers.  Send them to Paris.'  That's gunna work."  Kenny glared at him.

 

"Maybe you can fundraise for a new attitude while we're at it."

 

"You sound like my mom."

 

"Shut up, Craig."  

 

Kenny came home with them again, and his mom gave them a friendly nod before Butters and Kenny escaped to the basement.  "We'll talk later, dude."

 

"I don't get it," Craig grumbled.  "She's totally cool with you and Butters banging in her house."

 

"You should try not being her son."  Craig watched the two go, a little sour, and spent the night texting Tweek, wishing the other boy would get up the nerve to sneak out again sometime soon. 


	23. Chapter 23

Over the next few weeks, he and Kenny exchanged barrages of ideas, none of them useful. Craig had some money saved, up but it was nowhere near enough to get both of them to Paris and back. He did his calculations, and figured they'd need about two thousand dollars just for travel, and another thousand, maybe, for rooms, depending on how long they'd have to stay. Enough money that Craig figured he'd have to rob a bank to get it all in time. He told Tweek about the whole thing, and though Tweek didn't really believe him about Kenny, he had heard the guinea pig story from enough people that he believed Craig about that much. It was Tweek who offered up a solution.

 

"I have some money saved-AH! Saved up. My parents have been paying me for years."

 

"We can't take your money, dude. No way. But you should come with us if you want to."

 

Tweek looked terrified. "AH! Dude I can't go to Paris. I HATE FRENCH PEOPLE."

 

"Oh," Craig said, nodding. "No, it's fine, dude. You don't have to come. I just thought you might want to."

 

"Oh, thanks, Craig. AH! But you can pay me back. You and Kenny both."

 

"No way," Craig said, more firmly this time. "It's too much. But thanks, babe." He sighed. "Got any other ideas?"

 

"Have you- AH! Have you already asked the Cult of Cthulhu? They might help you."

 

Craig kissed him hard on the lips. "That's a great idea."

 

A few hours later, he set off to find Kenny, who, for once, wasn't in his basement. Craig walked down to the train tracks, cursing himself the whole way for not driving. He had underestimated just how long of a walk it was, and how cold it was besides. By the time he finally reached the house and knocked, his fingers were numb under their gloves. Karen opened the door, eyes wide against her skinny face. "Hi, Craig," she said softly, opening the door a little wider. "You might not want to be here right now."

 

"What's wrong?" he asked. She shifted from foot to foot. 

 

"Well, my parents are really out of it."

 

"Oh, I don't care," he said. The whole town knew about the McCormick's drug problems, and he'd seen it before. "Is Kenny here?"

 

"Yeah. Come in if you want. I just don't want to, like, freak you out." She opened the door and Craig stepped into the home that could have only been a few degrees above the outside temperature. He shuddered. Karen was bundled up in at least two coats, a hat and layers of sweat pants, and she shot him another apologetic look when she caught him looking at her. "We haven't payed the heat bill yet this month. Kenny's working on it."

 

"No problem," he said. He felt bad for her. Karen was his sister's age, but where his sister was all muscle, practically bursting with activity, Karen was tiny, too thin. The living room was falling apart. Craig had only been to Kenny's a handful of times, so he had to work to conceal his shock. The TV was still out and handfuls of stuffing were trying to escape the couch. The whole room was painted in a sick, pealing green, crumbling with the wall in some places. In the hallway, the sounds of two people arguing bounced around.

 

"Kenny's right down the hall," she said. Craig started, then turned his attention back to Karen. "In his room."

 

"Okay. Thanks, Karen," he said, making a mental note to talk to Trish about her. He made his way to Kenny's room, ignoring the sounds of fighting as best he could. Kenny opened the door before he could knock, looking absolutely exhausted. "Hey dude," Craig said.

 

Kenny gave him the ghost of a smile. "Hey, Craig. What's up?"

 

Kenny was as bundled up as Karen, his hair almost entirely covered by the hood of his parka. Little tufts of it stood out, blending with the faux fur around the hood, making him look a little crazy. Craig gulped. "Dude, how long have you guys been living like this?"

 

Kenny sighed, any charade of happiness fading from his face. "Forever? I don't know, dude. I can usually pay for heating at least. But my parents found my money this month and spent it on meth. So whatever was left went towards food."

 

"Oh my god," Craig said, unable to keep the emotion from his voice. "You guys have to come stay with us. If my parents knew-"

 

"They'd call child services and we'd be right back in foster care." Kenny rubbed his eyes. "Trust me. That's just as bad when it isn't worse."

 

"But there has to be something-"

 

"Look," Kenny said, holding his palms up. "I'm almost seventeen, right? Once I turn seventeen I can apply for emancipation. And I bet I could get the courts to give me custody of Karen too. I can't fuck that chance up. I can't go into the system again. I won't let that happen to Karen. Okay?"

 

"Okay," Craig said, trying to control his anger.

 

"Now what's up?"

 

"Tweek thought of a way for us to get the money. The Cult of Cthulhu? If we tell them that we're after the necronomicon, I bet they'd help us. But fuck, man, we should raise the money for you guys. You need it more than we need to find that stupid old book."

 

"No," Kenny said, shaking his orange parka from side to side. "No we have to understand what's happening to us. If we understand that, we might be able to do some real good. This is important, Craig, okay? I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't." They stared at each other for a long moment, then Craig looked away, full of a shame he didn't understand.

 

"Alright."

 

"Alright," Kenny said. "So we talk to the goth kids or my parents and figure out where the cult meetings are held. And then we hope for the best. My parents claim they haven't been to the meetings in years, so the goth kids are our best bet. If the cult is still around. I mean Bradley got him sent back to his dark dimension after all."

 

"Right," Craig said frowning. "Let's start with the goth kids. We can talk to them at school tomorrow."

 

"Alright, dude," Kenny said. He rubbed at his eyes again, doing nothing to lighten the dark circles under his eyes. "Well I've got work in a bit, so I should get ready."

 

"Are you sure you and Karen don't want to come over- just for a little bit- to warm up?" Kenny's shockingly blue eyes bore into Craig's brown ones for a moment before he nodded.

 

"Karen can go over. I'll come grab her after work. But don't tell your parents. Please."

 

"I promise," Craig said, shaken. He waited in the living room while Kenny talked to Karen, listening to the sounds of their asshole parents arguing over whose turn it was to take a hit. A hatred, deeper than one he'd ever felt before, filled him. He hated those people, the ones that could do this to his friend without so much as a second thought. And Kenny, sweet, selfless Kenny, worrying more about Butters and his sister than he ever did about himself... the whole thing made Craig feel sick. And more than a little ashamed. The least he could do was let Kenny use his bedroom as a way station without complaining about it. To distract himself, he watched his breath swirling around in the cool air. After what felt like years, Kenny and Karen stepped back into the room. 

 

"Thanks for inviting me over, Craig," Karen said, her voice shy.

 

"No worries," he said. "I'm sure Tricia will be happy to see you." He watched her face fall, just barely noticeably and wondered what his sister had done to deserve that reaction. They said their goodbyes to Kenny and set off through the icy winds. Craig had been wrong; although the McCormick's house was cold, it was quite a bit warmer than the outside. 

 

"I'm sorry, I didn't drive," he said, cursing himself again. Karen shrugged.

 

"That's okay. Kenny doesn't have a car so we never drive." Guilt surrounded him again. They trekked through the icy winds together, neither having the energy to speak. By the time they stumbled into Craig's house, Craig couldn't feel any of his limbs. Butters and Tricia stared at them from where they sat on the couch, watching some inane show or another. 

 

"Well hey there, Craig," Butters said, his innocent grin spreading across his face. "You look awful cold."

 

"Yeah, I mean I don't know why. It's balmy out there," he quipped, peeling his jacket off so the warm air could reach him. He let out a sigh of relief. "Karen, do you want hot chocolate? I'm making some."

 

"Yeah, okay," she said with a smile. She glanced between the three of them, and something about her reminded Craig of Tweek. He gave her his most reassuring smile, glad Butters was there. The blond was way better at comforting people than he was. 

 

"Sit down," he said, pointing to a spot on the couch. Obediently, Karen sat at the very edge of the couch, glancing around the room like she was trying to find something besides the people to stare at. He rushed into the kitchen and started a pot of water boiling, worried the whole time about what was happening in the other room. To his relief, when he returned he found Butters and Karen talking like old friends. And hell, maybe they were. Tricia interjected every once and a while, but the three together seemed happy. He retreated back to the kitchen, satisfied that he wasn't leaving anyone to uncomfortableness while he made the hot chocolate. 

 

"Craig!" Trish yelled from the other room.

 

"What?"

 

"Make Butters and I hot coco too."

 

"What's the magic word?" He could practically hear her flipping him off.

 

"Hurry." He shook his head, but pulled out another two mugs. He carried them all out on a tray, feeling uncomfortably like a waiter. "Thanks, brother mine," Tricia said, taking a mug. Craig handed the other two out and sat beside his sister on the couch. They listened to Butters fill the silence with his chatter, each of them falling into the comfortable routine. Karen held her mug to her chest, occasionally taking deep sips, closing her eyes. He watched Trish, to make sure she wasn't making the other girl uncomfortable, but she merely watched Karen with curious eyes, the same as Craig was doing. Karen watched whatever stupid show was on cable with wide eyes, raptly gazing at the T.V. 

 

"So then she kissed him, and tied his hands together. Isn't that just something? And she left him there for the monster to eat. Now what kind of girl leaves, well, leaves a man all tied up like that? Not a good one, that's what."

 

"Yeah Butters, we've all seen Pirates of the Caribbean."

 

"But it ain't right! I just don't get it."

 

"Nobody does," Craig said. "Nothing in that movie makes sense." Tricia nodded in agreement. 

 

"Isn't that the truth. Hey Karen have you done the lit homework yet?" Karen shook her head. "Want to work on it together?"

 

Karen looked at her, then quickly looked away, smile blooming on her face. "Yeah, sure." The girls disappeared upstairs, leaving Craig to listen, or at least pretend to listen, to Butters' chatter. Kenny returned when he said he would and let Craig drive them home.

 

~~

 

"So let me get this straight," Henrietta said, throwing her cigarette butt to the ground and stomping on it. "You want us to help you find the Necronomicon."

 

"Yes," Kenny said.

 

"And you just want our money. You don't want us to actually come with you."

 

"Not your money. We want the Cult of Cthulhu's money."

 

"Which, let's be real, is our money," Michael said. "As members."

 

"Okay," Kenny said, nodding. "Well after we have the Necronomicon, you guys can look at it."

 

The three goth kids looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Oh that's good. Yeah of course you will. You're not just going to run off with our money and go on a fucking shopping spree to Banana Republic like the fucking conformists that you are."

 

"We're not going to run off with your money to go to Banana Republic," Craig said.

 

"Then why won't you let us come with you?" Pete asked. They put their hands on their hips in unison. Kenny gave Craig a helpless look. 

 

"It's expensive. We already need two tickets, if we throw in another one-"

 

"I'll pay for it." Kenny and Craig looked at Pete disbelievingly, but the other goth kids didn't seem surprised. Henrietta picked at her nails looking bored.

 

"Pete's asshole parents have so much money they don't even realize when he takes some."

 

"Yeah. They don't notice me, or anything I do. They probably wouldn't even notice if I was dead. Fucking conformists." He took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke at Craig's face. He tried not to cough.

 

"You'd really pay for all of us to go to Paris?" Kenny asked.

 

"Can my boyfriend come too?" Craig asked. 

 

"Sure," Pete said, flipping his hair back. "Might as well take my fucking parents for all they've got. Serve them right."

 

"We'll book the tickets and let you guys know," Michael said. "When did you want to go? Spring break?"

 

"Spring break," Craig nodded. 

 

"Thanks you guys," Kenny said. "We really appreciate it."

 

"Sure," Pete said again. "We're always down to help the rebellion."

 

"I'm just in it for the thousand years of darkness," Henrietta said, pulling another cigarette out of her pocket. Craig and Kenny exchanged a glance, awkwardly watching the goth kids smoke. Pete frowned at them.

 

"Well go on, get out of here. Go back to your Justin Beiber lives. Just because we're going to Paris together doesn't make us friends."

 

They retreated, and Craig felt an uncharacteristic blush creek into his cheeks. "Well fuck, dude."

 

"Those guys are such dicks," Kenny said, scowling. "But hey, at least we don't have to worry about the money anymore."

 

"Worth it," Craig said, wondering if it was true. He waved Kenny off to his house, then set off to convince Tweek to go to Paris.


	24. Chapter 24

Over the next few weeks, things with Cartman and Kyle grew more complicated.  Even looking in from the outside, Craig noticed, it would be impossible not to notice.  It had begun again once Cartman started sitting with them at lunch, apparently growing tired of Heidi.  Or maybe it started before that.  He had certainly noticed the way Kyle stared just a bit too long when Cartman came into the room, or looked a tad too unhappy when he saw the couple holding hands in the hallway.  Either way, Craig wasn't the only one to notice.

 

"Oh my god," Stan complained one day.  "If I have to hear Kyle complain one more time about how bad Cartman treats Heidi I swear to god I'll lock them both in a closet till they fuck it out."

 

"It's always been Kyle's way to protest too much," Kenny said wisely, stroking the scruffy blond beard he'd been trying to grow for the past month."

 

"She doesn't seem to mind.  I mean, fuck, she's following him around like a lovesick puppy."  Clyde looked around the table, eyes asking Craig to back him up.

 

"Heidi's a big girl," Craig agreed.  "She can make choices about who she wants to date."

 

"And no one but Kyle is saying she can't," Stan sighed.  "I hate him mopey."

 

Cartman walked to the lunch table, tray full of twice as much food as normal kids were allowed.  "Sup, boners?  Did you guys see what Kyle's wearing today?  He looks like a total fag."

 

"Hey," Craig said, flipping him off.  

 

"Not cool, dude," Clyde added.

 

"Sorry, Craig, I didn't mean to inappropriate your culture.  How are you buttholes doing?"

 

"Fine.  How are you, fatass?"

 

"Eh, I'm doing as well as a chained man could be, I suppose.  So that's kewl."  He stole a fry from Craig, despite the stack on his own tray.  "You're a lucky man, Craig.  You don't have to deal with the hurricane that is a woman vexed."

 

"What'd you do this time, lardbutt?" Kyle asked, looking far too happy about it. Cartman's face lit up when he saw him, though he tried to hide it.  Craig rolled his eyes.  He wished Tweek were there, instead of at the dentist so he could exchange disbelieving looks with someone besides Stan.  

 

"Well, this time, Kahl, there's no way even you could think it was my fault."  Kyle put both elbows on the table and leaned toward Cartman.

 

"Try me."

 

"So, okay, so we were at burger king, just eating our fries-"

 

"Of course you were."

 

"Shut up, Stan.  So theeen, I was really tired and I said, 'Hey baby I'm going to go home now but I love you so much.'  And she was all 'Eric, I don't know why you never want to spend time together.  You're a terrible boyfriend.'  And I was all "No, baby, it's not like that.  I love you so much and I just want to be with you, but I stayed up all night last night talking to you on the phone.'  And then she was all, 'Why do you do this to me Eric?  All I ever wanted was to be in your life and now you keep pushing me away.  I want to have a long boring talk about our relationship.'  And then I went home and watched the Chiefs lose in the playoffs which was sweet.  See?  Totally not my fault."

 

"Oh come on, fatass, there's no way that's what happened."

 

"It is, Kahl.  It is what happened.  It was completely not my fault."

 

"Cartman, even if that happened exactly the way you told it, you shouldn't have left," Kyle said, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  The rest of the table watched the pair with eyes as uncomfortable as Craig felt.  It was like intruding on two of your friends fucking, but they kept at it when they realized you were watching.  "You should have stayed instead of running away from the argument."

 

"Heh, you're one to talk about running away, Jew.  You're only saying that because you've never had a girlfriend.  Okay?  You don't know what's it's like to have someone bitch at you constantly about everything.  It fucking sucks.  Oh Jesus."   Cartman's eyes narrowed and he frowned as Heidi Turner waved at him and made her way across the cafeteria.  

 

"Hey Eric," she said, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.  Cartman rolled his eyes.

 

"Hey, baby, how are you?" he asked flatly.  Heidi's face fell, almost imperceptibly.

 

"I'm good.  I just wanted to say hi."

 

"Hi."

 

"Are we still on for tonight?"

 

"Yes, we're still on for tonight.  I'm so excited."  He was still scowling.

 

"O....kay," she said.  "What's wrong, baby?"

 

"I've got to go, uh, do math homework," Clyde said, evacuating the table.  Token and Stan followed.

 

"No- guys, come on."  Kenny started to stand, and Cartman pulled him back down, shooting a glare at Craig, daring him to move.  'Nothing's wrong, baby.  I'm just hanging with the guys right now, you know?"

 

"Oh," she said, face clearing.  "Okay, well I'll see you tonight.  Love you, baby."

 

Cartman sighed dramatically.  "I love you too, baby."  Heidi gave the table a faltering smile and walked off.  "You see what I mean?"

 

Kenny sighed and shook his head.  "Why do you want to stay with her if you're really that miserable, dude?"  
  
  


"Because," he said leaning forward.  "The Power of the Pussy compels me.  You wouldn't get it, Craig."

 

"So you're staying with her for  _sex_?" Kyle asked, scandalized.  "Sex, dude?  Come on, you could have sex with anyone."  Craig met Kenny's eyes and tried to conceal a snort.

 

Cartman shot the two of them another dirty look, then turned up his nose.  "Well thank you, Kahl.  But you'll understand someday.  You've just never had a girlfriend before."

 

Kyle rolled his eyes.  "You're a dick, dude, you know that?"  Craig met Kenny's eyes and inclined his head towards the door, raising his eyebrows.  Kenny nodded emphatically, and both stood quickly, making their way to the door.  Cartman, to Craig's relief, hardly even seemed to notice.  He was too busy flirting with Kyle.  He and Kenny slipped out the door.

 

"God I wish they'd just start fucking again instead of doing it with words right in front of us," Kenny said.  

 

"Right?  God they're disgusting."

 

"Poor Kyle."

 

"Poor  _Kyle_?" Craig said.  "Poor Heidi.  Kyle's not the one suffering here."

 

"Yeah, well," Kenny said.  "So.  Did you get Tweek to agree to coming yet?"

 

He shook his head, frowning.  "He won't commit to it yet.  He goes back and forth.  But he really hates the French."

 

"He better figure it out soon so we can bring someone else."

 

"No," Craig said.  "I'm going to get him to go.  I just need time."

 

"Well hurry," Kenny said.   Craig nodded.

 

"Do you and Karen want to come over tonight?" he asked suddenly.  "My mom's making tacos.  There's gunna be lots of food.  Too much for us."

 

Kenny shrugged.  "Yeah, okay.  Sure.  Thanks, Craig."  Craig had been trying, in his own awkward way, to get Kenny to eat, and come out of the cold unheated home he and his family lived in.  And his parents had nearly adopted Karen the first time they met her. Their home was starting to feel like a wayside station, or an orphanage, with Butters living with them, and Kenny and Tweek and Karen over as much as they were.  Craig loved it.  And the sex problem with Tweek had fixed itself nearly overnight; with all of the business coming into the coffee shop lately, both of his parents were constantly out of the house, and nearly every day after school he found himself back at Tweek's door.  

 

"Hey," he said sheepishly a few hours later as Tweek opened the door for him, grinning.

 

"Hey," Tweek said, a broad grin on his face.  "How you doin, stranger?"

 

"You know," Craig said with a shrug.  "Just in the neighborhood.  Thought I'd stop by."

 

Tweek moved back from the doorway, letting his arm swing to his side.  "Is that right?"

 

"That's right," Craig said, stepping into the house and catching Tweek around the waist, pulling him into his arms and dipping him down to kiss him.  "You know you look just like you were waiting for someone.  Is that a different shirt than you were wearing earlier?  I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

 

Tweek blushed a little, lifting his head to meet Craig's lips again.  "Just waiting for a tall dark and handsome stranger.  But you'll do."

 

Craig sat him back on his feet and smacked his ass playfully.  "Keep talking like that and you'll end up with nothing at all."

 

"Like you could resist me," Tweek said, tossing his hair.  The grin was still on his face, but he pulled his shirt over his head, a kind of challenge in his eyes.  "I haven't beat you in a fight in a while."

 

"You've never beat me," Craig said, stepping close to him again, pulling their hips together and cupping Tweek's ass.  "But if you want to get your ass kicked that might be able to be arranged," he whispered, watching the line of goosebumps appear around Tweek's shoulder.  

 

"Let's make this- nnggg interesting," Tweek said against his neck.  "If you win, we fuck like normal.  And you can do whatever you want with me.  But if I win."  He stood on his tiptoes until he was the same height as Craig, brushing a strand away from his ear.  "I'm going to fuck you."  A shiver ran down his spine.

 

"Oh yeah?" he asked.  "You'd be into that?"  Tweek just gave him a grin.  "Alright, deal.  Winner gets to fuck the other."  He pushed Tweek away and pulled off his shirt, throwing it to the floor where it hit with a soft thump.

 

"What are you doing?" Tweek asked.

 

"Come on, you can't expect me to fight with my shirt on, can you?"  Tweek shrugged and pulled his own shirt off, wadding it into a ball and throwing it at Craig.  He pulled off his jeans too, letting them fall from his thin frame to the floor.  Craig raised an eyebrow.  

 

"Jeans-AH! they're too restricting," Tweek said.  Craig shrugged, taking his off too.  He liked how Tweek looked in the afternoon light, all pale edges in tight-fitting blue briefs.  Almost unconsciously he stepped towards Tweek again, pulling at his shoulders to bring their faces together, but Tweek pushed him away lightly, smirking.  "You're going to make this easy for me."

 

Craig sighed, and moved into a more stable stance, circling around Tweek.  "No way, dude.  You're not getting near my ass."  Tweek flew at him, arms flailing, and Craig barely evaded a headlock, twisting out of the way and grabbing Tweek around the waist and throwing him almost over his shoulder before Tweek broke free, pushing away and landing on the ground a few feet away, grinning.  Craig grinned back, then lunged forwards, landing on top of Tweek.  He grabbed at the smaller boys arms, but Tweek saw what he was up to and moved far too fast, wrapping his legs around Craig's stomach.  Craig started for a moment as their groins pressed together, and Tweek flipped them over, landing on top of Craig.  Craig watched him warily, then jolted into motion, rolling Tweek backwards and forwards until he was finally forced off.  They backed away from each other, panting.  

 

"Ready to give up yet?" Craig asked.  Tweek shook his head.  His face had more color in it than Craig was used to, and his hair stuck up at strange angles, slick with sweat.  Without warning, Tweek swung forward again, then tripped on the rug that lined most of the room, sprawling to the ground.  Craig rushed forward, not caring if it was unfair, and jumped onto Tweek, gripping his wrists and pinning his arms above his head, pinning Tweek's legs to the ground with his own.  Tweek twitched and struggled beneath him, but with no effect.  He let out a whining, frustrated noise that felt like music to Craig's ears.  "How about now?"  He let more of his weight fall onto Tweek, pressing his half-hard cock against Tweek's ass.  

 

"Nnnng fine.  You win this round," Tweek said.  "But you're a fucking- AH! cheater."  Craig chuckled.  He didn't let go of Tweek's arms.  He brought his face down close to Tweek's own and whispered in his ear.

 

"You know, you're not in much of a position to talk about your kind, loving boyfriend like that."

 

Tweek struggled again, pushing up against Craig's arms, but Craig pushed back, unworried.  From this angle, even someone stronger than him would have a hard time pushing him over.  "Are you gunna fuck me or what?"

 

"If you're lucky," Craig said, kissing his neck just below the ear, letting his teeth graze his soft skin.  Tweek twitched again, this time not trying to escape.  The soft curve of Tweek's ass pressed into Craig's cock, and he grinned, pulling himself to the ground beside Tweek and releasing him.  "Take those off," he said, gesturing at the boxers.  Tweek pulled them off, not moving from his place on the floor.  He rolled to his side, giving Craig a few of his pale body and his face, which was only a shade or two below scarlet.  His cock was hard, standing straight up against his stomach.

 

"How do you want me?"  Craig felt a jolt run through his stomach, to his dick, and fumbled with his discarded jeans' pockets, never taking his eyes from Tweek. His hand closed around the lube bottle and pulled it out.

 

"Stand against the couch," he said finally, pointing to the other room.  Tweek obeyed, walking to the couch and spreading his legs, glancing back over his shoulder at Craig.  Craig walked towards him slowly, a predator sizing up his prey, savoring the view of Tweek's pert little ass bared towards him.  When he reached him, he slapped Tweek's ass with his right hand, putting his other hand on the blond's shoulder.  Tweek yelped and clenched his cheeks together, evidently eager to avoid more pain.  "Open your legs."

 

Tweek looked over his shoulder at Craig, then very slowly, deliberately, he spread his legs further apart.  "Go on, then."

 

"You should put a little enthusiasm in that," Craig said sarcastically.  Tweek grinned. 

 

"Wouldn't want you to think I wanted you to fuck me."

 

"Oh that would be a fucking tragedy."  Craig squeezed some lube onto his fingers.  Still gripping Tweek's shoulder, he slipped a finger into his ass.  Tweek yelped again, this time not entirely from pain.  Craig let him get used to the finger for a moment, then slowly drew it out and pushed it back in again, smirking at Tweek's little whimper.  He pushed it back in again, carefully and slowly, not giving Tweek enough contact for any real pleasure.  Tweek strained outward, pushing his ass back into Craig's hand in an effort for more.  Craig sucked in a hard breath, not wanting to show Tweek how hot he found it.  "What do you want?" he asked in a strained voice.

 

"Fuck me," Tweek whispered.  "Please."

 

"I think the agreement was that I get to do whatever I want with you.  Because I won.  Right?" Craig asked slowly.  "And I don't know that I really want to fuck you."

 

Tweek made a noise of outrage, then thrust his hips backwards again, whining when Craig pulled his finger almost out.  "Please, Craig, come on," he said.  Craig slipped the finger back in, and slowly, gently, began to fuck Tweek with it again, savoring the whines that slipped past his lips.  "More- please," Tweek cried out after a few minutes, his voice broken.  If Craig hadn't been so turned on, he might have rolled his eyes.  Tweek could be quite the drama queen.  As it was, he pulled his finger out.  Tweek winced visibly at the loss.

 

"What'll you give me if I fuck you?" Craig asked, pressing his dick against Tweek's ass.  Tweek rubbed against it, seemingly unable to help himself.  

 

"AH!  Anything.  Please, Craig."

 

"Anything?"

 

"Yes!"

 

Craig smirked to himself.  "Will you go to Paris with me?"  Tweek stopped and turned to glare at him.

 

"Seriously, Craig?  AH! Fuck you, dude.  I hate the French."

 

"I know," Craig said, undeterred.  He grabbed Tweek's cock and gave it a few rough palms.  "But we could have a hotel room all to ourselves.  I could make you scream as loud as I wanted.  Wouldn't that be nice?"  Tweek's glare slipped for half a second.  He was thinking about it.  "And-" He sighed, unsure if he wanted to offer it up.  "And if you come with me to Paris I'll let you fuck me."

 

"In the butt?" Tweek asked in a voice barely above a whisper.  Craig nodded.  "Fuck, dude, you really want me to go."  Craig nodded again, watching Tweek chew his bottom lip.  "Alright-AH! Fine.  If you fuck me now."

 

Craig grinned in triumph and rubbed lube over his cock, throwing the bottle to the ground.  He lined himself up with Tweek, then slowly pushed his way in, letting out a groan as he did so.  Tweek whimpered again.  It must not be so bad, Craig reasoned, if it made Tweek make noises like that.  He thrust into Tweek a few times, erratically, uncontrollably, before wrestling control away from his hormones and slowing again.  "Fuck," he said wrapping his arms around Tweek's chest.  Tweek leaned back into him, pushing more of their bare skin together.  It was a good think Tweek was shorter, Craig thought, or standing sex would be a lot more difficult.  He kept his thrusts slow and controlled, aiming up at Tweek's prostate.

 

"Fuck," Tweek agreed, arching his back and gripping the couch with white knuckles.  "Harder."

 

"What was that?" Craig asked.

 

"Harder- please, Craig.  Harder."  Craig groaned and sped up his thrusts.  Tweek's ass was too much.  He was already to close to the edge and they had just started.  But how could he be expected not to go harder when Tweek was asking so nicely?  His hands made their way to Tweek's hips, pulling his ass to Craig's cock, harder with every thrust.  The tight heat enveloped him, and the rest of the world faded away.  As long as he could feel like this, with Tweek beneath him, the house could burn down and he wouldn't care.  He managed to slow himself down, with as much effort as Hercules must have had to use to kill the hydra, and Tweek let out another whine.  "Don't stop.  Please don't stop.  Close- nnng-"

 

"If I keep going, I'm going to cum," Craig warned.  

 

"Want to-AH! Feel you cum.  Please- cum in me."  Craig gripped his hips tighter and pistoned himself into Tweek, thrusting as hard as he could.  There was so much friction, so much heat, that soon Craig found himself at the edge again.  He reached down and pulled at Tweek's cock, jerking him as he fucked his ass with everything he had.  "Gunna cum," Tweek warned, and suddenly the tightness around Craig was too much, and he was cumming, his mind a blur of white pleasure.  Somewhere else in the world, he registered Tweek's own cries, but they didn't seem to matter, nothing mattered except riding out his orgasm.  When it finally ended, Craig felt light headed.  He pulled out of Tweek and slipped to the floor, suddenly exhausted.  Tweek curled up beside him, with his head on Craig's chest, and Craig wrapped an absentminded arm around him.

 

"Fuck," Craig said, remembering.  "I said you could fuck me."  Tweek laughed, still sounding out of breath.  

 

"Don't nngg don't worry.  I think you're going to like it."


	25. Chapter 25

The airport was crowded; Craig felt like there were bodies suffocating him in every direction. Clearly they weren't the only ones who wanted to leave Denver for Spring Break. The two goth kids sat in a row of chairs, sipping from disposable Starbucks cups and looking bored, while Kenny sat on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, with an arm around Tweek, who had apparently calmed down. Craig watched them from the McDonald's line across the terminal. He couldn't believe it was finally happening, after all of the hassle with plane tickets and passports, all of the negotiations with the goth kids about money, here they finally were. The line moved forward, and finally, finally, Craig ordered his black coffee and three egg McMuffins, and headed back to the others.

 

"So then she said if I don't get my grades up I'm not going with them to Mexico. It's like, okay, mom, go on without me on your stupid fairy-tale vacation. It's not like I'd want to have to hang out with a bunch of posers for a weekend anyway." Henrietta took another sip of her coffee and closed her eyes. Pete nodded, stone faced.

 

"Fucking conformists," he said, putting a hand on Henrietta's arm. Craig rolled his eyes and sat beside Kenny and Tweek on the ground, handing out the spoils.

 

"You feeling better, babe?" he asked Tweek, smoothing his hair from his forehead.

 

"AH! I'll feel better when- nnngg when we're back in a first world country."

 

"You know France is-" Kenny stopped, catching sight of Craig's frantic head-shaking. "We're staying in a good hotel. We'll be fine."

 

"Kenny's right," Craig said, handing Tweek his coffee. "We're going to be fine. I promise."

 

"AH! Okay. You won't leave me in Paris will you?"

 

"Why the hell would I leave you in Paris?"

 

Henrietta sniffed, and they turned to look at her. "I think he's smart. I mean all those people acting like they're better than everyone else because they built a tower? I wouldn't want to be left with those fucking conformists anyway. Trying to appropriate Goth culture. It's ours, okay?"

 

"Um. Okay," Craig said, sharing an exasperated look with Kenny. "So Tweek this is going to be fun. I promise. And if you want, you can take some benadryl on the plane. Sleep through the whole thing."

 

"You really want to drug him, dude?" Kenny asked, frowning.

 

"Sure. It's what my mom did to Tricia and I when we were kids. It's harmless." Tweek nodded and took two pink pills from his bag, washing them down with liberal amounts of coffee. Kenny murmured something about rich people, and they lapsed into a silence that, if not comfortable, was more comfortable than conversation had been. Soon enough, the stewardess was calling for their boarding row, and they stood, walking towards the plane. Tweek held his head like one condemned to the gallows, eyes barely turned forwards, expression pained. Craig grabbed his hand, and his ticket, handing both to the gate attendant who waved them through. Craig tried to pull them both to a stop, to wait for the others, but Tweek was having none of it, yanking Craig forward like a disobedient puppy at the end of a leash, He turned sideways to shrug at Kenny before he was pulled down the corridor and onto the plane.

 

"Jesus, dude, I thought you didn't want to go to Paris."

 

"Don't," Tweek said, eyebrows pressing together. "I just want to get it over as soon-AH! THEY'RE COMING TO GET ME! As I can. So I'm getting on the fucking plane and going to nnng France- AH! FRENCH PEOPLE! because I love you, and for no other reason. I'll have you remember that."

 

"I owe you one," Craig said, nodding. "Thanks for coming, Tweek."

 

"AH! You do owe me," Tweek said, pouting. "I haven't forgot the deal, you know."

 

"Deal? What deal?" Craig asked, hoping he looked more innocent than he felt. Judging by the sharp elbow that hit his stomach, he didn't. He scooched into the window seat, since Tweek was terrified of heights, and tried to get comfortable. He never let go of Tweek's hand. "How's the benadryl?"

 

"It's hitting," Tweek said, grinning. "I'm already getting tired."

 

"Well that's fine. You've got lots of time to sleep before we get to D.C. And I'll carry you to our transfer if I have to."

 

"As long as I'm-AH! asleep by the time we get to France. And then the whole time we're in France." Kenny slipped into his seat, throwing his backpack in front of him. 

 

"You can't sleep through the catacombs. They're supposed to be sweet."

 

"I don't care how sweet they are. I just want to stay out of the way, dude." Tweek leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes.

 

"And that," Craig said, kissing his forehead, "Is why I love you. You don't have to come to the catacombs. As long as you kiss me under the Eiffel Tower."

 

Tweek's eyes flew open and he jolted forward. "Eiffel Tower? AH! That's way too much pressure!"

 

"We'll talk about it when we get there," Craig said, patting his arm. Tweek frowned, but leaned backwards, no doubt propelled by the drug. "Is Butters sad he's not coming?"

 

"He's fine," Kenny said. "He got me an international plan so I can text him the whole time. And who needs Chaos on a good guy journey?"

 

Craig yelped as something hard hit his back. Henrietta stared at him smugly, pressing her foot more firmly into the back of his seat. "Can I help you?" she asked sarcastically. Craig flipped her off, turning back to Kenny. 

 

"Dude, did Kyle talk to you this morning?" Kenny asked. Craig shook his head. "You won't believe this."

 

"Is he fucking Cartman." Craig asked, blinking at Kenny.

 

Kenny stared at him in disbelief. "Yes. Isn't that fucked?"

 

"Not surprising," Craig said.

 

"Poor Heidi," Tweek mumbled sleepily.

 

"Yeah, no kidding," Kenny said. "That's some pretty fucked up shit right there." They drifted off into silence as the safety video rolled, and the stewardesses walked down the aisles, pulling on seat belts and pushing bags under seats. A few minutes later they were in the air. Craig lost himself in the landscape or clouds, listening to the soft sound of Tweek's snoring beside him. It seemed like no time at all had gone by when they landed in D.C., and before he knew it, they had boarded the second plane, Tweek barely able to keep himself upright under his own power. Craig had never been out of the country by choice before, and he was determined to watch their path until they left the borders. He made it about two hours before leaning his head against Tweek's and letting sleep carry him away.

 

He didn't wake until they were nearly to Paris, when Kenny shook him awake so he could grab papers for himself and Tweek from the nice flight attendant. He filled them out, blearily, then handed them back in. Kenny's eyes were bloodshot; he looked nearly as tired as Craig felt. Then he grinned happily, shaking Craig's shoulder. "Dude, it's happening! We're here. We could be about to learn everything."

 

"Maybe," Craig said, nodding. "Or maybe Tweek's right and we'll get murdered by Parisians."

 

"AH!" Tweek said, shaking himself from sleep. "I DON'T WANNA DIE, DUDE!!"

 

Craig stroked his arm reassuringly as he calmed. "Henrietta? You and Pete ready with the forms?"

 

"Yes," Pete called back, sticking his face in the space between the two seats. "We filled out the stupid nanny-state conformist forms so that we can leave one arbitrary piece of land and get to another."

 

"1984," Henriett murmured. Craig raised an eyebrow, but let it go. As long as they could all get in, and get out once again, it'd be fine. They'd all be completely fine. The plane landed without much ado, and the pilot's muffled voice crackled above their seats. Craig didn't listen to the words, though. He was too busy grabbing his backpack, nearly giddy from excitement, and getting Tweek in a manageable state of mind. They followed Kenny off the plane, Tweek clinging to Craig's hand like a lifeline. By the time they got to the hotel, his hand was numb, and his feet were tired. The sky was dark. What time had they left?

 

"See you boners tomorrow," Henrietta said, stalking off to her room. The four boys looked at each other for a long, awkward moment before entering their own hotel room. There were two queen beds, and Pete's face grew red. 

 

"No. Freakin. Way," he said, shaking his head. "I am not sharing a bed with one of you Justin-wanna bes. That's not happening." 

 

"Then take the couch," Kenny said, falling back onto one of the beds and bouncing a few inches in the air. "But I'm sleeping in a bed."

 

"I paid for this whole trip," Pete said, flipping his hair. "If anyone gets a bed, it's me."

 

"Then sleep in the bed," Kenny said, crossing his arms. "But I'm not moving." Craig rolled his eyes and grabbed his pajamas to change. When he finished, they were still arguing, so he pulled Tweek into the bed and ignored them, letting his exhaustion drown out all of the noise and drift him off to sleep. He woke spooned around Tweek, hot and sleepy-eyed. He slipped out of bed softly, hearing Tweek stir behind him, to find Kenny and Pete sitting on the couch, playing with their phones.

 

"You guys ready to go?"

 

"We don't have the catacombs tour until two," Pete said, not looking up. "But if you want to go see the destruction humanity has brought to the natural landscape, I guess you can go ahead and do that."

 

"Um. Yeah. Tweek? Do you want to go sight-seeing?"

 

"AH! I guess we-nnng have to while we're here, don't we?"

 

"Might be fun."

 

"Henrietta and I are going to check out the Louvre. I guess you can come if you want."

 

"Tweek?" Craig asked, looking at him expectantly. Tweek shrugged. "Sure."

 

"Cool," Pete said, flipping his hair at Craig before looking back at his phone. They dressed quietly, no one too talkative, and stepped into the hallway where Henrietta stood, smoking a cigarette.

 

"ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US KICKED OUT?" Tweek yelped. Henrietta rolled her eyes at him.

 

"It's Europe. Cigarettes are cool here."

 

"Yeah, don't worry, Tweek, it's cool," Kenny said. Tweek frowned.

 

"I hate this country."

 

"Whatever. So are we going to the stupid Louvre or what?" Pete and Henrietta led the way out of the hotel and into the streets of Paris, like they'd done it a million times before. The others followed. The streets were crowded, full of tourists and natives alike, and all around them the were the mushy sounds of the French language, blending together into indecipherable gibberish. When they finally made it to theLouvre, Henrietta surprised all of them with fluent French, talking to the ticket woman like it was nothing. And then she refused to answer any questions on the subject.

 

The Louvre was huge, floor upon floor and gallery upon gallery of different art mediums. Craig got dizzy just from staring at the ceiling. Henrietta and Pete took off towards the Gothic artwork, making reluctant promises about texting Kenny when it was time to go. The rest of them walked through a sculpture gallery, then ended up in front of massive paintings that must have taken years to create. They saw the Mona Lisa, behind a pane of glass and a large crowd, and then more paintings, painting on painting, until they all began to blend together and Craig's vision blurred. By the time they exited the museum a few hours later, his feet were throbbing, and his eyes were exhausted. He stumbled down the sidewalk, convinced that only Tweek's hand kept him standing.

 

"Do you still hate France?" he asked.

 

"Yes," Tweek said, but he was grinning. "Should we get a cab? Or an Uber? AH!"

 

"Uber. Or as the French would say, Ubeir," Henrietta said, tossing her spiky hair behind her. Craig rolled his eyes. They waited on a street corner, ignoring the judgmental gazes of the Parisians who saw through to their tourist cores. Finally, a Subaru pulled up, and a snooty-looking man put his head closer to the unopened window. 

 

"Uber?" the man asked down his nose. 

 

"Wee wee," said Kenny, before bursting into laughter. The driver rolled his eyes, but gestured them in nonetheless. The car ride to the catacombs was long and awkward. Whenever someone tried to talk, the driver coughed loudly, occasionally muttering to himself in French about stupid Americans. Finally they reached the tour entrance, where a blonde woman ushered them in.

 

"Are you here for ze tour of ze catacomps?" she asked.

 

"We," Henrietta said, taking a long drag from her cigarette.

 

"We have the two o'clock tour," Craig said. The woman nodded.

 

"Yes, come se muah, se vu play," she said. Craig glanced at the others perplexed for a moment, before catching Henrietta's eyeroll and sharp gesture and following the woman back through a gift shop and into a back tunnel, concealed behind a bookshelf.

 

"Is this the approved tour?" Craig muttered to Kenny out of the corner of his mouth. Tweek, barely convinced that he wouldn't die in the catacombs shivered beside him. "It looks kind of. Lame."

 

"I don't know, dude," Kenny said, shrugging. "Pete got the tickets."

 

"Well that's just fucking great," Craig said. "This is probably some lame-ass goth tour."

 

"AH! I DON'T WANT TO GO ON THE GOTH TOUR, CRAIG! WHY'D YOU DRAG ME INTO THIS?"

 

"It's okay, Tweek, you're fine," Craig said. "See? I bet this is the way everyone goes. They followed the pretty blonde lady into a room with a pentagram, etched out in black, thick paint, lay on the ground. Tweek yelped. Craig cleared his throat. "It seems that we've walked into the wrong time period," he said matter of factly. 

 

"Non, non," the French woman said. "Non, dis is catacomb of Cthulhu. Ees what leetle boy asked to see."

 

"It's true," Pete said, rolling his eyes. "This is where we're supposed to be, boners."

 

"Dude!" Tweek yelped. "I don't even know if this is a real place." Avoiding the paint and stepping slowly to the other side, Craig joined the French woman and four or five other tourists, who stared at the pentagram with blank looks on their faces. 

 

"Hello. My name is Evette," the tour guide said, pointing to her chest. "Welcome to ze Lovecraft tour of ze catacombs. I 'ope you will enjoy."

 

Craig sighed, glancing up at the dark, damp ceiling. "Don't worry, Tweek. By the time this is over, one way or another I'll have been fucked in the ass."

 

"WHAT?!" Pete, Henrietta, and Kenny shrieked. Craig flipped them off.


	26. Chapter 26

"And zis is where the Holy Temple was located before ze flood of ninet _ een  _ forty seex, _ "   _ Evette said, tossing her hair behind her.  "But Cthulhu was nevair seen in zis part of ze network.  He only appeared in ze lowah, secret tune-als. If you will follow me, I vill show you to ze main catacombs."  The tour dutifully followed her down the passage, lit by lanterns hung on the walls every ten feet or so. Occasionally, tunnels branched out from the main, leading to dark unknown places Evette didn't want to show them.

 

"So about how long ago was Cthulu here?" a fat man holding a clipboard asked.  

 

"Ze legend say thousand years ago.  But ze Cult of Cthulhu 'as met 'ere for at least ten thousand."  Kenny whistled.

 

"That's a long time," he muttered to Craig.  The group stopped around Evette near the entrance to one of the smaller tunnels.

 

"And 'ere we 'ave ze tunnel of Moria.  Moria claimed to speak directly to ze dark one, and performed many miracles."  She shined a flashlight down the tunnel, revealing thousands of painstakingly carved words in a language Craig didn't know.  "And here are ze prophecies of Moria. Zey were written in Gaelic. Most of zem tell of ze Undying One, and ze reign of darkness Cthulhu promised."

 

"Hail Cthulhu," Pete muttered under his breath, flipping his hair.  A few more "Hail Cthulhu"s echoed around the tunnel. They walked on.  Tweek nearly ran into Evette when she stopped again, and yelped, grabbing Craig's arm in fear.

 

"And 'ere we 'ave the human sacrificial chambers.  Ees zere anyone 'oo would like to be sacrificed today?"

 

"AH!" Tweek yelped.  Craig rolled his eyes, but Kenny laughed along with the rest of the group.

 

"But seriously," Evette said, shining her flashlight into the room, where dark stains covered the grey stone.  "Many people died zere. Estimates say over three hundred. Ze were left on hooks to bleed out slowly. And zen ze blood was poured on ze floor for ze Dark One.  Through zat room is ze rest of ze temple of Cthulhu, but eet is closed to ze public until furzer notice." Evette's heels clicked on the stone as the group moved on.  Craig grabbed Kenny's arm before he could take a step. 

 

"So do you think that's it?" he asked, pointing to the room.  Kenny nodded.

 

"Probably.  Should we get Henrietta and Pete?"

 

"Yeah." Craig turned to Tweek.  "Go tell them to come here. And you can stay with the tour.  I don't want to scare you."

 

"AH!  There's no way you're leaving me alone with the Frenchies, dude! AH!  I'm coming!" Craig rolled his eyes. Of course Tweek was more afraid of French women than of terrifying underground murder-rooms.  

 

"They're too far," Kenny said.  "We couldn't leave again without drawing attention."

 

"Then we go alone," Craig said.  He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.  "Come on."

 

Slowly, cautiously, they stepped into the room.  Blood spattered the walls and the floor everywhere Craig looked, and above them, something with wings rushed through the air.  Tweek let go of his arm. Craig scanned the walls with his flashlight. "Where's the other door?" he asked.

 

"I dunno, dude," Kenny said.  He pulled out his own phone. "I don't see one, do you, Tweek?"

 

"No," Tweek said slowly.  "Nng- wait, there!" He shined his phone alongside Craig's and Kenny's, then slowly moved it to illuminate the ground.  The light landed on a patch of dark blood that covered a square foot. Tweek moved towards it, and as the spot grew brighter, Craig realized it wasn't just blood; it was a blood-covered trap door.  They approached it together. Kenny knelt down and slipped his fingers through the cracks, pulling it up to reveal a dangerous-looking rope ladder. They looked at each other.

 

"So," Craig asked neutrally.  "Who wants to go first?"

 

"I'll go," Kenny said.  "I can't die. You wait for me, alright?  I'll call up at the bottom if it's safe." Craig nodded.  He found Tweek's fingers in the dark and interlaced them with his own, more for his benefit than for Tweek's.  

 

"It's okay, guys," Kenny's muffled voice called out a moments later.  "It's not that deep."

 

Craig looked at Tweek in the dim lights of their phones.  Tweek's face was taught, but determined. He looked less afraid than Craig felt.  Craig leaned forward and kissed him for luck. Nothing bad had ever happened while he kissed Tweek, and he wasn't about to risk something bad happening because he resisted.  Tweek kissed him back for a moment, then pulled away, dropping his legs into the expanse below them. In the light of Kenny's phone, he saw Tweek reach the ground. Gulping, he grabbed onto the ladder and lowered himself down rung by rung, but Kenny had been right.  After just a few feet, his feet touched solid ground. They were in a narrow passageway, narrow enough that they had to walk single-file through the dark hall. There were no torches this deep, and the only light came from their phones. The walls pressed against them on two sides, and Tweek and Kenny pressed against him on the others.

 

He hugged in a deep gasp of air when the passage widened, realizing he'd been holding his breath, waiting for something to leap out of the darkness at him.  Tweek slipped his hand into Craig's. The room was a circular chamber of some sort. By the light of his phone, he could see crude benches carved from the stone, with stalagmites stretching up towards the ceiling every few feet.  Stalagmites reached down from the arching ceilings, and the occasional drop of water dripped down. At the head of the room, a long stone platform sat, as though it was waiting for something.

 

"It's a church," Kenny said softly.  Craig followed his light to the walls, and let out a gasp.  It was a church, a church with murals of destruction and violence displayed on every rocky surface.  

 

"AH! LOOK!" Tweek yelped, pointing a shaking finger to the wall.  Craig followed his light to the walls, and let out a gasp. It was a church, a church with murals of destruction and violence displayed on every rocky surface.  A scene depicted a smiling monster with a wide open mouth, pouring limp bodies of babies into its gullet. Another showed a tentacled Cthulhu razing a burning city, its citizens frozen forever in leaping, desperate poses, their faces masks of terror.  But that wasn't what phased Craig. In every scene at least once were pictures of him and Kenny fighting Cthulhu, with brave faces and swords as long as their bodies. Except- it wasn't really him and Kenny. At least not as clearly as it had been in Peru.  Craig was more determined, and the pictures seemed to show less apathy somehow. Like he really cared whether he lost or won. A lump rose to his throat. It was simply too strange. And that wasn't all- he had more muscle, more hair. It was like the drawings were of a better version of him.

 

"Shit, dude," Kenny said cheerfully.  "I think we found the right place."

 

They carefully picked their way through the pews, towards the front of the church slowly, checking for monsters under every bench.  And then they'd reached the dais. There were no more dark corners to check. It was almost eerie how silent the cave was, aside from the occasional plunk of water.  The light illuminated the dark shapes on the platform that Craig hadn't been able to make out before. A huge book sat in the center, and flanking it were two bottles.  In one, a shimmering purple liquid swam in dazzling circles. But the other- Craig couldn't describe it, but it was the most beautiful thing, maybe aside from Tweek, that he'd ever seen.  It was dark, nearly black, but somehow a mosaic of color too, rainbow trapped in a bottle. Transfixed, he walked up the steps towards it.

 

"Guys," Tweek's voice called from somewhere far away.  "Guys, what are you doing?"

 

Craig shook his head, trying to focus on the words and not the  shimmering liquid. "I want a closer look," he managed. He stopped, inches from the bottle, staring into it for a moment.  He had the strangest impulse- no, that couldn't be right. But it was more than an urge, it was a compulsion. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he picked up the bottle, giving it a swirl.  A drop landed on his bare skin. As though in a dream, he lifted the glass to his lips and poured the contents down his throat. In another world, Tweek was screaming.Craig felt himself starting to fall, but didn't care, he let it happen, and he was falling falling falling.

 

~~

 

He woke on a towel covered in sand.  The grit dug into his skin every inch he moved, irritating and prickly.  He opened his eyes, then clamped them shut again, blinking back tears. The sun glared down on him- wherever he was, blinding him.  Slowly, one crack at a time, he managed to trick his eyes into opening. A few trickles of liquid escaped them, and he wiped them away, irritated.  Slowly, he sat, taking in his surroundings. There was no source of the blinding light. No sun hung in the sky. The eerie light instead seemed to be radiating from all around him.  A vast emptiness extended all around him, only sand, sand and light, stretching out across the flat landscape as far as he could see. The air smelled faintly of salt. He squeezed his eyes shut once more, and when he opened them, the light was gone, and a darkness so complete that he couldn't see his hands covered the landscape.

 

His heart thumped loudly in his chest, and it could have been his imagination but he felt the world around him thumping in time.  A voice so soft he could barely hear it cried out,  " _ They could not live. But although They no longer lived, They would never really die.  _ "

 

An echo called back, " _ Die, die, die." _

 

"Who are you?" Craig yelled.  "Where am I?" There was no answer.  He stood, sinking into the dark sands, and began to walk through the darkness, panic rising in his throat.  Each step took a strong effort, like Craig was bleeding away into the landscape. 

 

" _ Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn _ ," the voice called.  

 

“ _ Cthulhu fhtagn _ ," the echo sang.  The sounds came from all around him- yet, from nowhere.  

 

"Tweek?" he cried.  "Kenny? Where are you guys?"  There was no answer. He stumbled through the sand.  Slowly, so gradually he didn't notice at first, the light returned, illuminating the landscape in front of him.  It wasn't empty anymore. Huge shadows sat upon the dark sands, their bodies rising and falling like ocean tides.  Each shape was easily a hundred times Craig's size, maybe more. He gulped. It had to be a dream. There was no way this was really happening.  He sludged to the first shape as the light grew brighter. It was alive. That much he could tell. Thick tendrils hung down around it, feeling at the air with every rise of the creature's chest.  Craid backed away. The world was growing lighter still, and he made out, far away, through the haze of sand and shadows, the figure of a man. He hurried towards it, nearly falling into the thick sand.  "Hey," he called. "What's going on? Where am I?"

 

The man didn't reply.  He simply turned and began walking.  Craig rushed after him, cursing. The light grew.  He could make out a dark head of hair and a black cloak.  Ahead was a large gazebo, held up by long thick pillars. The man stopped inside it and turned, like he'd been waiting for Craig the whole time.  

 

" _ In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming,"   _ the man said mildly.

 

"Who are you?" Craig asked, somehow managing to return his voice to his sarcastic apathetic tones.  The man gave him a creepy grin.

 

"I guard the Old Ones.  Welcome, F _ hruhori." _

 

_ " _ The fuck did you just call me?" Craig asked, raising his middle finger an inch before thinking better of it.

 

" _ Fhruhori," _  he said with exaggerated slowness.  Craig's finger twitched. "It is your name, your true name."

 

"Where am I?"  The man laughed, revealing yellow, cracking teeth. 

 

"You do not know yet?  And they told me you were intelligent."

 

"R'lyeh."  The word slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying.  He clamped his lips shut.

 

"R'lyeh," the man confirmed.  His head bobbed from side to side, like he was mimicking a human gesture but not quite achieving one. 

 

"Where are Tweek and Kenny?" he asked, staring defiantly at the man.  "If you've touched them, I'll-"

 

"Tweek is fine," the man said, unnatural grin plastered to his face.  "He is where you left him. As for the other- he is no worse off than you."  His eyes gleamed. Craig looked around for something- anything he could use as a weapon if he needed one.  There was nothing.

 

"Who are you?" he asked, stalling.

 

"I am the man with no name," he said, bobbing his head.  "I guard the Old Ones. I watch the temples. I... keep away the monsters.  I know you have many questions. I'm afraid there is not time to answer them all."

 

"Time before what?"

 

The man's smile widened a fraction of an inch.  "You should not have come here,  _ Fhrohori. _  The price is your death."


	27. Chapter 27

Craig snickered.  "I'm not afraid of some old dude in a bathrobe."

 

The man's smile didn't waver.  "Brave until the last. The legends were true.  It will truly be an honor to sacrifice you to the dark ones.  I will be rewarded."

 

"Bring it, asswipe," Craig said, throwing two middle fingers into the air at the man.  Still grinning, the man with no name walked slowly toward Craig. Craig met his gaze and scowled.  He charged toward the man, and his fist connected with a soft squishy cheek, sending the guy flying back.  He stood again, brushing himself off with a chuckle, then raised a hand and muttered something in a language Craig didn't understand.  His head exploded with pain, and in panic, he realized it was on fire. He batted at his hair until the pain stopped, but as he ran a hand over his head, he just felt crisp, tender skin.  "You god damn son of a bitch," he said evenly. "You'll pay for that." The man merely smiled and closed his eyes, chanting something else. Craig's vision went red. His eyes shut of their own accord.  He couldn't think. He was pure anger.

 

Craig let out a slew of curse words, or at least they sounded like curse words in his head.  Aloud they sounded more like a curse, a curse or a prayer, but the nameless man screamed, his smile finally gone as he disappeared under a mountain of guinea pigs.  "God dammit," he muttered. "It's always gotta be guinea pigs."

 

Fire surrounded the little rodents, burning them until only bones remained.  The nameless man reappeared. His eyes were empty, but he wore a grim scowl of determination.  He held out his hand, and a wooden spear appeared. Craig closed his eyes, picturing a sword. When he opened them, something solid clunked into his hands, but it wasn't a sword.  "God fucking dammit," he muttered, hefting the guinea pig inside a hamster wheel up just in time to block the nameless man's spear from puncturing his shoulder. "Could I get a fucking useful weapon?" he yelled at the sand.  The nameless man, though, held only splinters, and Craig realized the ball had blocked the worst of the damage. His enemy had little red claw marks and bites all over his body, and blood appeared in little droplets on his skin.  Craig tossed the ball aside, jumping again at the man. Craig wrapped his legs around the nameless man's waist, as he'd practiced so many times with Tweek, forcing him onto his back as he punched the man square in the face, over and over, until the man was sputtering and mewling.  

 

"Now," Craig said.  "Where is Kenny?"

 

"You'll never win, furry one," the man spat, mouth widening once more into an empty smile.  "Kill me, there are more of us. The Dark One will see to it that you die long before he returns."  Craig hit him again.

 

"Where is he?" The man simply smiled up at him.

 

"That is not dead," he whispered, dissolving into a coughing fit.  Craig nearly reared back in disgust as a spatter of blood hit him. "Which can eternal lie.  And with strange aeons-"

 

"You're the one to die," Craig finished, curling his hand around the man's neck.  He grasped at empty air, falling to the ground. The nameless man was gone. All that remained as proof he had ever been there were the lifeless bodies of guinea pigs and a few blood spatters on his shirt.  He cursed, flipping off the spot the man had disappeared from. Painfully, he stood. Again, his hand flew to his head, which was far too light, far too burned. That asshole had wrecked his beautiful black hair.  Not sure what else to do, he set off through the sands, away from the sleeping Old Ones. The dark returned, but Craig kept walking, waiting for the sky to lighten. Every few steps, he flipped off the stupid world that had dragged him down and trapped him, wondering how the fuck Kenny and Bradley had gotten out of R'lyeh last time.  When the sky lightened once more, he found himself beside a well, where a beautiful woman sat waving at him. Reluctantly, sensing a trap, Craig approached.

 

"Hello, hero," she said, stepping out to embrace him.  He endured the hug awkwardly, wishing those squishy breasts weren't pressed quite so firmly against him.  

 

"Gay hero," he muttered.  The woman smiled, pulling away.

 

"You have traveled far to come to this place.  You are truly brave beyond your years."

 

"Yeah, yeah," he said impatiently.  "Who are you? Where's Kenny?"

 

The woman frowned.  "Who is this Kenny? I was told only to expect you, Furry One."

 

"Call me Craig," Craig said, frowning.   "Who are you?"

 

"I'm a friend," she said solemnly.  "Those of us trapped here have to pick a side.  I help those who wander down here. Some others- they help the sleeping monsters."

 

"Oh," he said.  "Well. Thank you."

 

"You're welcome, furry- Craig.  Come, eat, you must be hungry."

 

"No, I'm fine," he said sarcastically.  "How do I get out of here?"

 

"Oh," she said, her face falling.  "We can't get out. Even the Great Ones like you- there's no way out from the inside.  I am sorry."

 

"I've got to find Kenny," he muttered, striding off.

 

"Wait!  Um, at least a cool drink of water, traveler?  You must be thirsty. The land is long." Craig was thirsty, annoyingly so, but something about the woman- the way she talked- felt wrong.  She reminded him of the nameless man. 

 

"No thank you," Craig said.  

 

"DRINK SOME OF MY WATER RIGHT NOW," the woman screamed, running towards him holding a bucket.

 

"Woah," Craig said as he began to run.  She hurled the bucket at him, but it flew wide left, landing a few feet away from him.  Craig flipped off the strange woman behind his back. He didn't stop running until he could no longer see her.  Again, the world shifted, falling into darkness. Craig slowed. He figured it'd be easier to fight off an emaciated woman than to break his leg and have to drag himself by his arms.  When the light returned, he was feet from Kenny, dressed in what looked like a torn white sheet. The blond bolted toward him, hugging Craig to his chest. Craig protested for a moment, to save his pride, then hugged Kenny back, relieved to find another person in this strange, lost world.

 

"Oh my god, dude," Kenny said.  "This has been the worst day in a while.  I had to fight a dude riding a horse naked."

 

"Wait- were you or the dude naked?" Craig asked.

 

"Exactly," Kenny said.  "Let me just tell you, balls and fur should not mix.  Though I guess you'd know that,  _ Furry One." _

 

Craig showed him his favorite finger.  "So how do we get out of here?"

 

"Last time I died.  And I got reborn out of R'lyeh."

 

"Great," Craig groaned.  "Any way out of here for those of us that are expendable?"

 

"That Bradley kid got everyone else out last time.  But I guess that's not an option here, huh?" They glanced around the landscape, but once again, it was just flat sand.  "Fuck me, dude."

 

"I don't think that will help," Craig said, deadpan.  "Guess we better start walking."

 

Kenny shrugged.  They picked a direction and began to walk.  When they sky darkened, they talked, about Butters and Tweek, Kyle and Cartman, trying to stay close enough together.  When it grew light, a white palace appeared in front of them. If Craig had any capacity for surprise left, he would have been shocked, but the events of the day left him only able to raise an eyebrow.  "So that's a trap, right?" he asked.

 

"Unless we've actually stumbled upon a brilliant white palace in the middle of Cthulhu's lair, I'd say it's probably a trap," Kenny said, ruffling his hair.  Craig watched, jealous.

 

"Should we just keep going?"

 

"Nah," Kenny said.  "Maybe there's a way out.  We have to at least check it out."

 

"God dammit, Kenny," Craig muttered.  "Every time I go anywhere with you."

 

"Maybe I'll let you pick what we do next time we hang out," Kenny said sighing.  "You usually don't lead us to the crypts of Paris." Craig nodded pointedly. Nevertheless, they scaled the slippery stone steps and knocked on the palace door.  Someone, or something, scurried towards them, and the door flew open to reveal an irritated-looking man with a bright red beard.

 

"I'm quite happy with my phone plan, thank you," he said, reaching to close the door.  

 

"No, no," Kenny said.  "We're just looking for a way out of here."

 

"Oh," he said, staring at them suspiciously for a moment.  "Well alright, come in then."

 

"Do you know how to get out?" Craig asked once they settled in the man's living room.

 

"Ain't no way to get out," he said glumly.  "Might get used to it now. Then have to settle down later."

 

"There has to be a way out.  I got out before."

 

"Sure, sure.  If you got someone on the outside.  Not once you're in. But you can stay here with me if you like.  I'll show you around the place." Kenny and Craig exchanged a look.  

 

"Okay," Craig said.  

 

"Sure," he said, pacing the room.  "Whereabouts you folks from?"

 

"Colorado," Kenny said.  The man froze.

 

"Do you... do you follow football?"

 

"Yeah, dude, go Broncos," Kenny said.  The man began to shake. A red flush crept into his skin.

 

"Mister?" Craig asked.  "Are you okay?" The man didn't answer.  Instead he began to shake even more violently.  Craig worried he'd fall. Then he began growing, his skin a violent red.  He turned to face Kenny and Craig, a face of pure fury, fifty feet high.

 

"Fuck the Broncos," he said.  Balls of fires appeared in each of his hands, and he started throwing them at Craig and Kenny.  They screamed.

"Shit, dude," Kenny said.  "Run!" They ran out the palace, back down into the sands.  Craig turned in time to see Kenny fall onto the hot sand. He paused.  "Go, dude! I'm immortal!" Craig went, running as fast as he could away.  Kenny screamed in pain behind him, and he paused again to see Kenny on fire.  "GO ASSHOLE!" He went.

 

Craig slowed when it grew dark once more, but then the world started to spin around him.  Colored lights appeared, then became streaks, and his vision blurred. He fell to his knees, trying to hold onto the sand, but the world dissolved around him and the sands slipped from his open hand as darkness took him.

 

When Craig opened his eyes, he was back in the cavern.  Tweek's hair hung in his face, tickling his nose. Craig sneezed.  "Hey, dude," he said as Tweek's worried face came into view.

 

"AH! CRAIG, YOU'RE OKAY!" he yelled, falling on top of Craig.  "CRAIG! THEY KILLED KENNY!"

 

"Those bastards," Craig muttered.  "He'll be okay. He's probably just back in South Park."  He lifted a hand to his head, bracing himself, but the charred mess of skin and hair was gone, and his silky smooth hair was back.  He heaved a sigh of relief. "How did you get me out?"

 

"I read the book, dude," Tweek said, twitching.  "The necronomicon! Everything- AH! AH! Everything I needed was there.  This silver bowl-AH! I thought you were going to leave me in France, dude! Forever!"

 

He lay his head against Craig's chest.  Craig stroked his hair, amazed at the softness, amazed at something real under his fingers again.  "I would never do that to you, babe," Craig said. "Never." He gently pulled Tweek up to a seated position.  Kenny's body lay on the floor, and rats crawled over it. Craig gulped.

 

"We should get out of here, dude.  The tour's probably looking for us by now."  Tweek nodded, clinging to his arm. 

 

"AH!  I'm so glad you're okay."  Craig wrapped an arm around him.

 

"Thanks to you.  You saved my life."  They left the cave just as their tour passed by again, and blended in near the back with Pete and Henrietta.

 

"Well?"  Henrietta asked, scowling.  "Did you get the book?"

 

"Yup," Craig said.  "You guys can check it out when we get back to the hotel."

 

"Thanks, I guess," she said.  "But this doesn't mean we're friends, poser.  We're not hanging out when we get home."

 

"Fine with me," he said with a straight face.  He thought he saw her hide a smile, just for a moment.  They ubered back to the hotel, where Pete and Henrietta opted to go to the bar.  Tweek tugged at his arm, a mischievous grin on his face.

 

"I think we'll stay here," Craig said grinning.  "We've had enough excitement for the day."

 

Pete snorted and flipped his hair.  "You probably wouldn't even like the club we're going to anyway.  It's a little too dark for Justins and Britneys like you." Craig flipped him off, but he just shook his head and walked out of the bar with his hands in his pockets.  Henrietta followed, flipping them off as she did. Craig nodded in respect. 

 


	28. Chapter 28

Craig looked at the bathroom door nervously, waiting for Tweek to pop out.  He couldn't keep his hands from grabbing at his ass in consternation of what was to come.  Out of everything he'd faced in the last day, he felt this was the one he was least prepared for.  The waiting was the worst part. Tweek had only gone to the bathroom to "freshen up," what could he possibly be doing in there?  Craig checked his phone.    
  
  
  
_ Weak, dude.  Didn't even get to see the Eiffel Tower >:( _   
  
  
  
At least Kenny was alive.  That was something. The bathroom door creaked open.  He glanced up at Tweek, who burst into laughter.   
  
  
  
"Dude you look like I killed your mom," Tweek choked out between giggles.  "We don't have to do it if you don't want to."   
  
  
  
"No, I want to," Craig sighed.  "I'm just-" Terrified? "Nervous."   
  
  
  
"We'll go slow," Tweek promised.  Craig frowned. That used to be his line.  Still, when Tweek kissed him, he relaxed. He let Tweek pull off his shirt and pull him onto the bed.  Craig straddled him, instinctively pulling Tweek's hands above his head, pinning him to the bed. His skin burned where it touched Tweek's, and he barely noticed as Tweek freed himself, gently pushing Craig onto his back on the bed.  Tweek yanked his pants down in a smooth, practiced motion, throwing them onto the hotel floor. Craig fumbled with Tweek's pants, managing to get them down. Tweek pulled them all the way off, sitting over him naked.    
  
  
  
"Oh god," Craig said.  Tweek grabbed the lube and poured a little onto his fingers.  Craig cringed.   
  
  
  
"Craig, are you sure you want to do this?"  Craig gulped.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure," he said.  He looked up at Tweek's concerned face and realized he meant it.  If he was going to try this with anyone, it was going to be Tweek.  Tweek grinned at him, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few quick strokes.  Craig closed his eyes. He was hard despite his fear. Something cold touched his ass, but he focused on the pleasure in his cock, ignoring the cold wetness.  There was a quick pressure against his hole, then he gasped. Tweek stopped.   
  
  
  
"AH! You okay, dude?"   
  
  
  
"Yeah," Craig said.  "It hurts a little. But it's not bad."   
  
  
  
"Do you want me to keep going?"   
  
  
  
"Yeah," Craig said, gritting his teeth.  Again he focused on the pleasure on his cock, focusing on his breathing.  The stretching in his ass continued. It burned but it wasn't entirely unpleasant.  "Keep going," he said. Tweek curled his finger inside Craig, and Craig gasped again, this time not from shock.  Tweek paused, giving him a worried look. "Do that again," he managed. Tweek did, and Craig's toes curled up. He moaned.     
  
  
  
"You like it?" Tweek asked, looking surprised.     
  
  
  
"Yeah," he said.  Tweek's face froze into comical surprise, but he didn't stop.  Instead, he slowly added another finger. Craig hissed at the stretching pain, but Tweek stroked his cock patiently, and soon it passed.  He only had a second to adjust before Tweeks fingers began to move again, gently working him open. Every so often, Tweek's fingers grazed over the spot that made him gasp, lingering there as he moaned.  He barely noticed when the hand on his cock disappeared. He realized his eyes had closed somewhere along the way, and opened them to see Tweek staring at him with unabashed lust.   
  
  
  
"I'm going to fuck you," Tweek said, still sounding a little surprised.  Craig nodded, not trusting himself to speak as Tweek poured more lube onto his fingers and spread it out over his ass.  Craig felt himself clench as the fingers reentered him, scissoring him until his hole opened enough. The fingers disappeared, and something larger, something smooth and wet pressed against his hole.  Craig forced his eyes open to look at Tweek. Tweek was still giving him that lustful stare, and he grunted as he slid even deeper into Craig's ass. Craig clenched his teeth together and hissed in pain as his ass was stretched open.  He was suddenly more grateful than ever that Tweek's cock was small. It still hurt like hell. Tweek didn't seem to notice. He was too busy thrusting into Craig, his face a mask of ecstasy.    
  
  
  
It began to hurt less.  His ass was stretching, getting used to the intrusion even if his mind hadn't yet comprehended that Tweek was on top of him, inside him, their roles reversed.  He wrapped his legs around Tweek, pulling their bodies closer, even, together. Tweek's hand landed under his neck, pulling Craig up to kiss him as he fell forward, pressing their stomachs together.  Craig kissed him, enjoying the friction of Tweek's skin on his cock, the burn in his ass, mixed with the occasional rush of blinding pleasure. Tweek stopped and pulled out of him, leaving him empty and wanting.   
  
  
  
"Why'd you stop?" he asked, breathless.   
  
  
  
"Get on your hands and knees," Tweek said.  He grinned, and Craig recognized his boyfriend again.  "I want to see what you think the fuss is all about."   
  
  
  
"Oh," Craig said grinning.  "Well. You like this position more than I do, so."   
  
  
  
"Not today," Tweek said.  He knelt behind Craig, rubbing the head of his cock teasingly along Craig's ass, brushing his hole before moving on again.  He grunted in frustration. "What?"   
  
  
  
"Would you just do it already?" Craig asked, glancing behind him.  Tweek grinned, and Craig felt something hard against him once more.  He breathed a sigh of relief mixed with something else as Tweek slid into him.  It didn't hurt. Tweek could fuck him harder now, and he did. Every other thrust or so, Craig groaned, his g spot being pounded more and more.   He wasn't sure why he'd waited so long to try this. They could have been doing this weeks ago. Tweek reached around his leg to grab his cock, jerking it in time with his thrusts.  He let out a low groan, instinctively thrusting backwards. A stream of words poured out of his mouth, incoherent and pleading. Tweek gasped behind him, gripping Craig's hips tightly enough to hurt, but Craig didn't care.  If anything it made it better. He rocked back and forth, chasing the pleasure against his prostate. He wouldn't last long now, between the pressure in his ass and the warm hand pleasuring his cock.   
  
  
  
"Close," he choked out between groans.   
  
  
  
'Nnng me too," Tweek said.  "I'm going to cum in your ass."   
  
  
  
""Cum- Cum for me," Craig managed.  Tweek's thrusts grew less rhythmic, more erratic, and his fingers dug into Craig's hips.  Craig closed his eyes, blind to the world outside of Tweek's cock thrusting furiously into him, and the warm tight embrace of Tweek's hand.  He gasped, as his orgasm ripped through him, white hot pleasure awakening every nerve in his body. Somewhere far away, Tweek moaned, and squeezed his hips impossibly tighter, thrusting into him once more and stopping.  Craig felt Tweek's cock pulsing inside of him. He closed his eyes, body shaking as his knees collapsed and he fell forwards onto the bed. Tweek fell forward on top of him with a soft oof, and for a few moments, they simply lay in post orgasm bliss, Tweek's cock still lodged inside of Craig, Craig's hand interlaced with Tweek's.   
  
  
  
They didn't speak, they simply lay, bodies connected, the soft weight of Tweek on Craig's back.  He felt himself drifting off, and made no attempts to stop it, slowly letting himself fade into a comfortable doze.  He dreamed of unnamed monsters in a deserted dark world, dreamed of Tweek's hand in his, dreamed of running from something that was hell-bent on killing him, destroying him for good. When he woke, he was safe beside Tweek, but his heart raced.  There was more to come.

 

~

_ In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waited, dreaming. The time was not now, but it was closer.  His dreams had changed from formless shadow to shape and color, until he could almost form thought. The stone entombing him was growing cold, and he sensed his companions beginning to stir.  The days of R’lyeh, though Cthulhu didn't know it, grew shorter, and the nights passed just as quickly.  _

 

_ Outside of R'lyeh, the world was changing.  Men once more craved a ruler who would set things right, one with the power to teach them to be free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and revelling in joy. Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and all the earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom.  Though they didn't know it, the time was growing very near. _

 

_ The others lived in apathy, watching the world pass, waiting for something to happen.  The few that did not were young, silly children still, who worried more about prom dates than monsters.  But weeks passed and the threat grew. The children grew. The world held its breath on the precipice of change, just waiting to tip, until one day it did. _

 


End file.
